Raging Beast Boy
by Shadow Avenger
Summary: UPDATED! Chapter 15 is finally here! AU story. A story of boxing, friendship and sheer brotherhood.
1. Default Chapter

I know I haven't finished my first story (How It Came To Be) but I will, OK? This is just something I wanted to write now before it got out of my head. This is an AU story (which I'm not a big fan of most of the time) so don't be expecting to see superheroes or anything. This is a boxing story, plain and simple. An alternate title was going to be 'Million Dollar Titans' but I like this one better.

Enjoy and please R&R.

Raging Beast Boy

Chapter One: Picking A Name

Garfield Logan walked through the streets of Jump City on a Friday afternoon after school, with a feeling inside that was telling him that he would be a different person by the end of today.

That's why he was going to this gym. Well, that wasn't the only reason. His mother had been constantly bugging him to join the local boxing club for months now and he figured that he might as well get her off his back ASAP.

It was the middle of November-Garfield felt that it was one of those rare Novembers where the weather resembles itself in the movies-and Garfield's mind was already thinking about Christmas. It was one of the few times that he and his mother would be truly happy.  
Garfield and his mother lived in a small two-bedroom apartment, which wasn't very flattering to him. His father had left him when he was less than a year old. He always received letters from him, but never a phone call on his birthday or any other day of any other year.

The wind suddenly picked up and blew an icy chill into his face. He pulled on the straps of his backpack just to make sure they were still secure on his shoulders. He dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt. It wasn't far now. Probably a block or two.

_Would have been a lot easier if mom didn't need the car_, he thought to himself.

Two blocks later, he arrived at the place that was sure to change his life for the better: _Titans Boxing Club_.

He had called there about three days earlier asking how much membership was and if he could join. The membership was surprisingly cheap and the man on the phone told him that they were always looking for new boxers.

He pulled open the door and the sound of loud and fast tapping filled the air. It sounded more like a basketball for little kids where for one hour they just practiced dribbling.

Instead it was punching. At the far end of the gym was a boy with black hair in a red t-shirt and black short at a speed bag. The sound that it made was almost like a machine gun rattle.

Another male was at a much larger punching bag and was attacking it with his gloves-both _Everlast_ brand. The male was black and looked like he belonged in a football arena than in a boxing ring.

_Then again, he may not be able to catch_, Garfield joked to himself.

In the ring itself, which was located in the middle of the gym, two girls were sparring together. One girl had bronzed skin and from what Garfield could see, almost orange hair. The other girl looked pale as a ghost but equally tough. They both had on headgear and gloves and seemed to be handling it very professionally.

This caught Garfield off guard.

_Girls? They train girls?_

"Can I help you?" an English accent asked the teen.

Garfield turned towards the reception counter where an elderly man sat with a magazine in front of him. His hair was white as was his moustache. He looked one of those clichéd 'old trainers' that you saw in the movies. They were boxers in their youth but something happened to them (physically or emotionally) and now they just trained instead of actually fighting.

Garfield cleared his throat and approached the elderly man. "Hi, I'm uh-Garfield Logan. I called a couple days ago and spoke to a Mr.…ugh-what his name?"

"Wayne?" asked the old man.

Garfield snapped his fingers and instantly pointed his index finger at the man with his thumb extended in the air like it was a gun. "That's it. Mr. Wayne."

The old man extended his open palm to Garfield. "I'm Alfred Pennyworth. I trained Mr. Wayne and now we're both trainers though he seldom competes." He reached under the desk and pulled out an old telephone that looked like it belonged in the Smithsonian rather than here. He picked up the receiver and dialed three numbers.

"Mr. Wayne? Garfield Logan is here to see you." There was a pause. "He says he called a few days ago." There was another pause. "Well, if you _talk_ to him, perhaps you'll remember him." Alfred replaced the receiver on the phone and put it back under the desk. He smiled at Garfield. "Go on up, he'll be expecting you." Alfred pointed to a flight of stairs that led to an office upstairs.

Swallowing the buildup of saliva in his mouth, Garfield sighed and proceeded up the flight of stairs. As he began his slow march he could feel that the boy at the speed bag was watching him while still hitting the bag. Garfield stopped and turned to him. Their eyes met for a second and then he continued his trek up the stairs.

When he came to the top he knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," said a gruff voice on the other side.

Placing his hand on the knob, Garfield turned it and pushed open the door. It was a small office with two bookshelves on each side of the room. Above the shelves and atop them as well, were pictures, trophies and newspaper clippings. There were probably five books altogether on both shelves. At the end of the room was a large window so that whoever was in there could look down and see what everyone was doing all at once. Above the window was a championship belt, but Garfield couldn't read the small writing on it.

Sitting in the chair at the desk was a very muscular man with black hair. He certainly had the look of a boxer. This must have been the Bruce Wayne he had spoken to earlier. He certainly did look intimidating.

_I hope he doesn't know I know that._

"Garfield," Bruce greeted, "please come in."

Garfield gave a small cough and took a step forward when Mr. Wayne said, "Close the door."

Bruce Wayne's voice reminded Garfield of Clint Eastwood's almost except it didn't have that certain rasp to it. Certainly made him sound as tough as he was.

When Garfield returned from closing the door, he saw Bruce turn his chair to the window and drop the blinds.

Inside the teen's body, he could feel his heartbeat getting faster.

_He's either going to yell at me, hit me, or do something Michael Jackson would approve of_, Garfield thought. His vivid imagination usually got the best of him. It was perhaps his major weakness if you didn't count his undying love for comedy.

"Why are you here, Garfield?" Bruce asked him.

_Whew,_ thought the teen, _this shouldn't be so hard._

He shrugged. "I wanna learn how to box."

Bruce nodded. "Yes, that's why you're here. But _why_ are you here?"

Garfield raised an eyebrow. "I-I'm not sure that I follow you."

Bruce leaned back in his chair. "Everyone does something for a reason. You didn't just wake up one day and say, 'Hey, maybe I'll try boxing today'. There was a reason you came here and a reason that it's boxing. There are two karate dojos in town but only one boxing club. So why did you come here?"

Garfield could feel a lump in his throat. This was not something he wanted to do. But he knew that he would probably be here for hours if he didn't answer. Might as well get it over with and never bring it up again for as long as he lived.

"I'm new in town," he explained. "It's been rough making new friends-not that I had a lot in my old town."

Bruce leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk, joining his hands together.

"Go on."

Garfield sighed. Bruce Wayne was acting more like Sigmund Freud than himself. "I get a hard time at school cause, you know…my mom and I don't have a lot of money. Like, we make a living…but not like other people."

"Do you ever have enough money for Christmas?"

_Don't go there_. "Yes," Garfield answered with angry eyes. "Always."

Bruce smiled. "Good. I now understand. You want to learn to box because you're given a hard time at school and you're tired of juvenile crap against you because your family isn't as…fortunate as others. But why boxing?"

Garfield chuckled. "People punch when they fight. I noticed that they don't do ninja chops or anything else. I'm more likely to fight someone like me, than a ninja."

Bruce smiled. "Smart answer. All right, come on down and I'll introduce you to the others."

Back where he was before, Garfield Logan stood next to Bruce at the front of the gym.

"Hey," he shouted to the occupants.

The two girls stopped their spar.

The black teen stopped punching the bag

The boy at the back was still punching the speed bag with the same strength he had shown before.

"Tim," Bruce called in a stern voice.

The boy-Tim-stopped and gave Bruce an annoyed look.

Bruce seemed equally annoyed with Tim as well but quickly shrugged it off. "This is Garfield Logan. He's going to be joining us." He turned to the teenager. "Garfield, go get to know them."

_First impressions_, thought Garfield, _greaaaat._ He walked towards the black teen who was at the large bag while the two females exited the ring.

"H-hi," Garfield said with an open hand. "I'm Garfield."

The black teen looked like he wanted to laugh really hard. This didn't surprise Garfield. There were many things like 'Like the cat's name, does that make you a pussy, want some lasagna?' and the list went on and on.

"Garfield?" asked the male.

With an inner sigh, Garfield nodded.

"L-like the cute little kitty cat?" the teen asked before bursting into laughter.

Garfield's open hand dropped to his side.

"I was thinking more of the President," said the girl with bronzed skin who approached from behind, "than the cartoon feline."

"I just think it's a name like any other," said the pale girl. Her voice was monotone like a robot or something.

The last one to come up was Tim. He had a smile on his face. "I don't know Cy," he said to the black teen, "I could see this guy being tougher than any kitty cat."

The black teen smiled and held out his hand. "Sorry, man I just had to get that out of the way," he said to Garfield. "I'm Victor but you can call me Cyborg."

Garfield raised an eyebrow as he shook his hand. "Cyborg?"

He nodded. "Boxing names. I'm Victor 'the Cyborg' Stone."

Garfield turned around and looked at all the teens. "So…you all have boxing names that you go by?"  
Tim nodded. "You can call me Robin. Wasn't my name originally but I was allowed to take it."

"You may call me Starfire," said the bronzed girl as she gave a small bow.

"Raven," introduced the other girl with her monotone voice.

"What's yours?" Robin asked Garfield.

Garfield stammered. He didn't know he'd have to come up with a nickname on the spot. It would have to something cool. Definitely not something related to cats. He did have a passion for animals…his father was an animal doctor for the zoo.

"Beast Boy," he replied with a smile.

Cyborg nodded. "Beast Boy, huh? I like it."

"Indeed," replied Starfire.

"Garfield," called Bruce at the front of the gym.

"One minute," said Garfield as he gave a small jog towards Bruce. "What is it?"

Bruce handed him a list. "This is basically the stuff you're going to need to train here. Understand?"

Garfield smiled. "Yes, I do."

"If you can't get it all," began Bruce in a compassionate voice, "the gym can pay for it and-"

"No," said Garfield. "I have more than enough money to buy this stuff." He headed towards the door. "Thank you."

To Be Continued…

Hope you liked this chapter. Please don't review and say, "Oh, but Tim Drake isn't Robin…it's Dick Grayson.' Please…I don't care. It's my story and personally I don't care if somebody has Jason Todd as Robin in a TT story (he was the one who died). Besides, Dick Grayson is going to be appearing in this story as well. So please…no telling me who Robin _should _be. One thing an author is allowed to do is make his own world and his own characters.


	2. Knowing The Ropes

Well, thank you to the _one _person who updated. If only he actually had a profile here, perhaps I could read some of his stories and review them as well. Maybe to ask people to review was too much. Maybe I'm being greedy. I just don't know. But if you read…please have the common courtesy to review. Even a number rating would be good. I don't ask for much. Only a review will do.

Chapter Two: Teaching the Ropes

When Garfield got home that night after getting the necessary supplies, his mother approached him in a nightgown. She was going to bed early so that she could get to the office tomorrow. She was an assistant District Attorney but she certainly didn't live like one.

"Honey, where were you?"

Garfield shrugged. "I had to go out and get some stuff for the club."

His mother's face lit up. "The boxing club? Good for you, honey. Well, I have to get to bed. There's half a pizza for you on the table-vegetarian, of course-and I got some soda in the fridge."

Garfield sighed inwardly. His mother was always on top of things. Cases, dinner, social events, everything. "Anything else?"

Mrs. Logan smiled. "A Mr. Wayne called. He said to come back for 8AM. Bring all your stuff and dress warm. He also said to bring all the stuff on the list."

"When was this?" asked Garfield.

"Little after six-thirty," she replied with a yawn. "I was going over the Roth case and he called. I just wrote down whatever he said and then read it over to make sure it made sense."

"Wait," said Garfield hoping he had his mother right on this. "You were going after a case while writing something down at the same time? You didn't even process it in your head? How d'you do that?"

Garfield's mother smiled. "I'm a mother. You'd be surprised at what I can do."

* * *

At 7:15AM, Garfield Logan awoke much earlier than he usually did on a Saturday. He liked normally to get up at 8:00AM but today was to be different. He hopped out of bed and proceeded towards the kitchen. He popped a slice of bread into the toaster and got out the strawberry jam. He never ate a full breakfast if he didn't have to be anywhere but Garfield wanted to make sure nothing would hold him back today.

The toast popped out (if you could call it toast-Garfield never 'toasted' his bread, he just let it sit there for about thirty seconds on the lowest setting and then let it come out when it was just starting to get a bit crunchy) and he drowned it with jam.

He opened up the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggnog, which was a rare find in November. He poured himself a small glass and ate his toast while reading the comics section of the newspaper. After quickly finishing his breakfast he put on a wife-beater and a Roots hooded sweatshirt he had bought in Toronto once. It gave him the look of a boxer in his mind. He slipped on some sweatpants, grabbed a backpack that his gear was stored in and marched out the door, locking it behind him.

* * *

At 7:35AM, Garfield Logan arrived at _Titans Boxing Club_ to find Alfred at the desk reading the same magazine from yesterday.

"Hello, Mr. Animal," greeted the Englishman.

Garfield raised an eyebrow.

"Beast Boy," explained Alfred. "Robin told me about it."

"Tim's here already?" asked Garfield.

Alfred stood up. "Allow me to give you some advice. Don't call him Tim unless he allows you to. He'll let you know when, but until then…just call him Robin. He literally allows only family to call him by his first name."

"But…Mr. Wayne called him Tim-"

"Mr. Wayne is Tim's father…in a manner of speaking," hissed Alfred.

"Oh," said Garfield. "Please…don't say anything else. I don't need to know."

Alfred nodded. "You're a very wise person, Beast Boy." He handed the teen a key.

"It's to the lock on your locker."

Garfield nodded. "Thank you."

* * *

The locker room in the gym looked like any other locker room. There were benches, lockers, toilets, urinals and showers.

_Clichéd yet efficient,_ he thought.

Robin was in a corner shadow boxing. He wore a red hooded sweatshirt and didn't even hear Garfield enter the locker room. With every punch he gave a 'ffff' sound like he was exhaling. His movements told Garfield that he had been doing this for lots of years.

Now there was one way that Garfield could get Robin to stop so they could have a conversation. He could either give an 'ahem' but that would seem tacky and rude. Or there was the old drop-the-bag-on-the-bench routine that made it seem that he was in so much awe of Robin's ability that he lost his gripping.

The bag with all his gear dropped on the bench.

Robin stopped and turned towards the sound. He gave a smile and said, "Hey, Beast Boy. Ready for today?"  
Garfield had no idea what today had in store but confidence was something that he needed to have. "I'm ready for anything," he replied with a toothy grin.

"Good," replied Robin as he sat down on the bench. "Your locker's four down from mine. In fact, it's right behind you."

Sure enough, behind Garfield was a locker. At the top was an inscription:

**GARFIELD "BEAST BOY" LOGAN **

"Nice," remarked Garfield as he unlocked the lock. He pulled open the locker and then opened up his backpack.

"Let me guess," began Robin, still in his position, "in there you've got a t-shirt, shorts, handwraps, bag gloves, headgear-boxing kind, not dental-mouth guard, sparring gloves and a groin protector to keep your junk secure. Oh and you probably brought some deodorant or cologne so that you don't stink afterwards."

Garfield raised his eyebrows. "Whoa. How'd you do that?"

Robin smiled. "I work with Bruce in the office when we close up. When you called a couple days ago I had to make up a list of equipment you would need. As for the deodorant and/or cologne…well I hope that you do care about personal hygiene. I got all the stuff in my locker too along with some other stuff. Chances are though that you won't use all of that stuff today."

"What are we dong today?" asked Garfield.

Robin smiled as Cyborg entered the locker room. "Hey, Cy. Ready for the jog?"

"Oh, you know I am," replied Cyborg. Cyborg wore a blue hooded sweatshirt, which looked like it was going to burst if he flexed at all.

"How far do we jog?" asked Garfield.

"Not far, BB. Only two and half to three miles."

Garfield nodded. "I can do that. Three miles isn't that far." The truth was that he had never jogged that far before but there was the confidence thing again. Looking frightened at a bit of exercise wouldn't do him any good.

"See," said Robin to Cyborg, "I knew Beast Boy was tougher than any kitty cat."

Garfield laughed. "Don't ever forget it."

* * *

At 8:00AM, Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan stood with all the people he had met yesterday with the exception of Alfred who remained in the gym.

"All right," said Bruce as he led the group. "Let's go." He started off like a knight leading an army into battle.

As he jogged behind Cyborg and beside Raven, Garfield could feel the chill of the wind blast in his face. He squinted his eyes so that he could adjust his sight.

After about ten minutes he was certain that all feeling in his face had been lost and that his lungs were on fire.

"How you doing?" Robin asked from behind.

Garfield turned around and gave the strongest smile he could manage. "Good, but this wind is killing me."

"Think of something else," Robin called as Garfield turned his back towards the direction he was jogging.

Garfield chuckled. "How bout the pain coming from my heels?"

"Perhaps if you concentrated more on running instead of personal comfort, you wouldn't be so cold," said Raven with an annoyed-yet still monotone-tone.

"In other words," said Cyborg, keeping his head forward, "the trick to pain is not minding that it hurts."

_Good advice_, thought Garfield.

* * *

Back at the gym, Garfield sat in the locker rubbing his bare hands together while breathing deeply through his nostrils. Robin came up and handed him a cup that contained some hot chocolate.

"Alfred always makes it whenever we go jogging and it's cold out."

Garfield graciously took the cup between his white palms. "Thanks."

Cyborg was at the sink soaking his hands in a small pool of warm water. Garfield was hoping that he would get there first but the larger teen had beaten him to it.

"Damn," he remarked as he raised his hands out of the water. "Yo, Robin, think you could ever convince Bruce to install treadmills here?"

Robin gave a half sigh and said, "Been trying for years, Cy. Seems to think that they just don't do the trick as running in freezing weather does. But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try after we close up tonight." He proceeded towards his locker and unlocked it.

He pulled off his shirt and reached into his locker, pulling out the red shirt he had on yesterday. He gave it a sniff.

"Whoo," he said as he pulled it on. "I think I gotta wash this over the weekend."

Garfield gave a smile and proceeded towards his locker. He never liked changing in front of other people in gym before but here-since it was just him and two other guys-the self-esteem continued to rise. He pulled off his hooded sweatshirt and pulled on a black t-shirt followed by some black shorts after he discarded his jeans.

Bruce walked into the locker room and stood at the door.

"Bruce," greeted Tim, "have you come to sneak a peak?"

"Beast Boy," called Bruce. "I'm going to be working with you today."

Garfield nodded. "I'm cool with that." Before he could even ask what they would be doing, Bruce exited.

"Dude," Cyborg said to Robin, "he's gonna snap on you one of these days." He pulled a white muscle shirt over his chest. "And when that happens I wanna see it."

Robin grinned. "Don't worry, Beast Boy. He'll go easy on you today, he'll teach you how to wrap your hands, working on your stance and if you're not slow-which I hope and doubt you are-you'll start working on jabs and punches."

"Is Bruce a hard teacher?" Beast Boy inquired as he slipped his shoes back on.

Robin wrinkled his face. "Depends. Cy, what do you think?"

"Well since you have no prior experience…he'll go easy. Just practice whatever he teaches you and don't get frustrated. Be patient. And don't show you're afraid."

Garfield walked towards Bruce in one of the corners of the gym. Robin and Cyborg entered the ring. Alfred approached the two of them and would referee their spar. Starfire and Raven were at one of the larger bags.

In Bruce's hand was a hand wrap. "Hold out the hand you write with."

Garfield held out his left hand.

"Watch and listen very carefully," advised Bruce as he moved the wrap over Garfield's hand. "Now place the thumb loop around your right thumb and start with the hand wrap across the back of your hand. You got this?"

"Got it," replied Garfield with a nod.

Bruce gave a small smile. "Good. Now wrap a few times around your wrist and then at least once around your thumb. The wrap should feel snug around your wrist and hand. Remember it should be snug and not tight."

"Snug-not tight," said Beast Boy like he was taking an order at a restaurant.

"Good. Now wrap your knuckles a few times keeping the fingers of your right hand spread apart. With the remaining hand wrap, alternate wrapping your wrist once or twice and then your knuckles once or twice. Periodically, make a fist to make sure you have not wrapped your hand too tight. Finish wrapping around your wrist and secure the hand wrap with the Velcro strap. You got it?"

Garfield raised his left hand and looked at it like it almost wasn't his. Like it was a new hand. A new and better hand.

"Yea, I got it."

"Good. Wrap your right," said Bruce. "And I'll be watching."

Garfield sighed and took the other wrap in his left hand. Replaying the last couple of minutes in his head, he recreated the entire scenario on his right hand until it felt and looked like his left.

Bruce raised his eyebrows. Normally people always had trouble and would groan and grunt in frustration. But not this one. This one was…different.

"Nicely done," he remarked. "All right. You've got your hands right, now you have to know how to stand. Watch me." Bruce stood in a fighting pose. "Now stand like me."

Garfield mimicked his stance. Bruce unfroze and looked him over.

"Good, keep the feet shoulder length apart. Right hand at chin level and have the palm face _you_. Rest your thumb against the knuckle of your middle finger and…perfect." Bruce looked at the boy as if he was almost too good to be true. "Are you a savant or something?"

Garfield laughed. "No. I just watched _Rocky _and _Raging Bull_ a couple times."

Bruce looked at the ceiling and gave a chuckle. "All right. Since you seem to be an expert, let's work on the left jab. Ever punch someone before?"

_I wonder if _trying_ to punch someone counts,_ thought Garfield. "No," he replied.

"At least 60 of a boxer's punches will be straight jabs. It's the busiest punch in boxing because it can be thrown quickly without compromising a boxer's defense." Bruce spoke like he knew what he was talking about and Garfield didn't doubt it. And he knew he never would.

* * *

It was 4:49PM when Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan felt that he was ready to take on any opponent. Bruce had taught him everything from the straight jab to uppercuts and shadowboxing. He could feel the sweat all over his body and even in his hair.

His breathing was sharp and deep but he could feel that he had had a transformation of some kind.

"How are you?" asked Bruce.

Garfield exhaled deeply and looked at him with a pained smile. "My body hurts like hell but…I feel good." He gave a chuckle. "Like James Brown."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Alright then. Get changed and go home, relax but don't go without practicing. When you leave there'll be a paper with a workout on it. Follow it and you'll be golden."

Garfield smiled and headed towards the locker room singing _I Feel Good_ quietly and humming the musical part.

Alfred approached Bruce. "How did he do?"

Bruce sighed. "Good. Very good. I don't wanna say this but…he's almost like me."

Alfred sighed. "Damn. Two Bruce Waynes."

"He could be another Tim," remarked Bruce as he turned to his former trainer. "How'd he do?"

Alfred shrugged. "I think he did good today as well. Do you want me to drop him off at your place or is he going to help close up."

"I don't know. These days he seems to be unpredictable."

Alfred gave a chuckle. "It seems your motto-'Expect the unexpected'-only applies in the ring."

"He's a good kid. But sometimes…you know Dick was a lot easier to raise."

"Is he coming down soon?"  
Bruce nodded. "Tomorrow. You can go home. Tim and I will clean up."

Alfred nodded. "See you in the morning."

To Be Continued…

Yea, chapter two is done. And that's all I'm gonna say. Please R&R

Shadow Avenger


	3. Male Bonding

OK, here's chapter three. I hope that when people read this…they actually review. I kinda feed off of those.

Chapter Three: Male Bonding

Garfield Logan entered the locker room still humming the catchy tune by the Godfather of Soul.

Robin and Cyborg were there as well, engaged in conversation as they undressed from their workout clothes.

"Hey, BB," greeted Cyborg. "You're a guy. Give us your honest opinion. You think Robin and Starfire have a chance of hookin' up?"

Rob gave a sigh mixed laugh and shook his head. "I know you're looking out for me, Cy, but she's just not interested in me. I mean, I'm interested in _her_ but she doesn't feel the same way. S'okay, all right?" He pulled off his shorts and using his feet, pulled off his shoes and socks. Once standing in only his boxes he turned to Garfield.

"You gotta towel, BB? Cause we got tons extra."

Garfield could feel a lump growing in his throat and his stomach turn over. This was something he was hoping he would not have to confront.

"Bwa?" was all he could ask.

Robin wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled down his boxers through the towel.

"Huh?" he said as he struggled to get the _Simpsons_ novelty boxers off. Once they were removed he hung them on a hook in his locker.

Cyborg however was a bit bolder and had removed his boxer briefs and stood naked just seconds before wrapping a towel around his waist as well. Garfield didn't stare (you never stare) but he certainly was uncomfortable.

"You OK?" Robin asked.

"I-I'll just wait until you guys are finished," said Garfield not looking them in the eyes as they approached him. He stared at the top of their heads, examining their hair, or-in Cyborg's case-scalp.

Robin and Cyborg looked at each other in the eye.

"You know what's going on?" asked Cyborg.

"An idea," said Robin. "I mean…didn't we have the same kinda problem when we were in the locker room for the first time together?"

Cyborg smiled. "Oh, yea. You were scared of me."

Robin sighed. "I was intimidated by your stature. I wasn't scared. I was just a bit concerned of your size because I thought you were capable of killing me in the ring."

"Oh," said Cyborg. "I thought you were just scared of me because I'm black."

Garfield laughed.

"What's your problem, BB?" Cyborg asked Garfield. "You too good to shower with the rest of us?"

"That can't be it. He doesn't _look_ like a jackass," observed Robin.

"You know, Raven and Starfire shower together," said Cyborg as he raised his eyebrows up and down, "and they don't have a problem with it."

"T-they told you that?" asked Garfield.

"Well, Star did. Raven was sick one day two weeks ago and we talked for a little while and somehow-I really can't remember how-showering came up. So you comin' in or not?"

"Oh," said Robin in a sinister cartoon voice, "we could strip him and hold him by his arms and legs and let the cold water hit him."

"Or," said Cyborg, "an even better idea. We could throw him naked in the girls' locker room. Damn, we'd make Raven's day."

"N-no…it's just…I figured that I'd give you guys more room so that I'm not in the way."

Robin waved a finger. "Nice try, but those showers could hold five guys that are _bigger_ than Cyborg. What's your _real_ reason?"

Garfield sighed. "I-I showered after gym once and…I got laughed at. They made fun of my-"

Robin raised a hand that signaled Garfield to stop. "Say no more. It's not like that here. We don't stare like the queer little boys in your gym class. You go to JC High?"

Garfield nodded. "Yea."

Cyborg laughed. "I actually had it kinda worse. In my freshman year, I was so good that they allowed me to play on the senior football team. There was only one problem…I had to shower with them. And the only thing worse than showering after gym is showering after gym with a bunch of seniors." He gave another laugh. "And sure, I got it bad…they always looked and-ugh-just made me sick. So, I make it a habit not to stare at Robin in the shower."

"Though the temptation can be great," added Robin.

Garfield sighed. He found that these two could be very childish yet philosophical in a way too. "All right," he said a heavy sigh. "But you can't watch me undress."

Cyborg tapped Robin on the shoulder. "Say, Robin…does the wall of the shower look different from yesterday?"  
Robin smiled and turned his back with Cyborg on Garfield. "You know, now that you mention it, it _does _look different. Is that a different shade of green?"

_Thank you_, thought Garfield as he pulled off his shirt. He was extremely body shy and if another person had his body, perhaps they would feel the same way. His ribs were clearly visible and if one looked hard enough, you could see his heart beating. He tossed the shirt into his locker and then followed with his pants, socks and shoes. His boxers were the last remaining piece of clothing on his body. Giving one final sigh, he pulled them off and stood naked in the locker room before wrapping a towel over his waist.

"OK," he said in a small voice. "You can look now."

Robin and Cyborg turned around.

"Oh," groaned Cyborg. "What are you so worried about? You made yourself sound like the Elephant Man. I was gonna feel sorry but now…you took advantage of my sensitivity. As punishment…you can't stare at me while I'm cleaning."

Garfield gave a small laugh and a sigh. He was facing his fear. He knew that here there would be no ridicule, no comparisons (In size or strength) or any other of that crap he had had to put up with for most of his life.

As he walked towards the shower he yanked off his towel and threw in on the bench and walked naked into the shower feeling two feet taller and as strong as god himself.

"Does anyone else feel a chill?" he asked before the hot water hit his body.

* * *

Garfield ran a hand through his damp hair after pulling his hooded sweatshirt over his chest.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Cyborg asked him as he did up his pants and slipped on his socks.

Garfield shook his head as Robin applied a quantity of hair gel to his head.

"You know, Rob, sometimes I think you apply too much of that crap to your head," commented Cyborg. "That stuff smells cheap anyway."

Robin smiled at his finished form. "The ladies like the smell, Cy. It's kinda like an aphro…uh…what's that word?"

"Aphrodisiac?" guessed Garfield. He knew that was the word but he made it sound like he wasn't completely sure.

Robin turned to Garfield and snapped his fingers. "That's the word. It's like an _aphrodisiac_, Cyborg. It just draws in the women."

Cyborg laughed as he did up his backpack. "Yo, BB, me and Robin are heading to the arcade. You in or you out?"

Garfield shook his head. "I should probably get home. My mom's gonna be coming home late and I should make dinner for her."

Cyborg gasped. "Your mom's that new ADA?"

Garfield nodded. "Yea, how'd you know?"

Robin motioned to his friend. "Cy's dad is a reporter at the newspaper."

"Oh," replied Garfield.

"But come on," pleaded Robin. "Come to the arcade. I promise you'll be able to keep your clothes on."

Garfield sighed. From showers to video games-these guys were consistent.

"Fine," he said, "I'll call my mom."

Robin moved towards the door. "Come on," he said, "you can use the phone on Alfred's desk."

* * *

Sally Logan sat at the computer in her office typing up her closing statement. The defense had rested much sooner than she had expected but it didn't matter. This case was hers and it would hopefully make her a big name in Jump City.

_You're no Bugliosi yet_, she thought as the phone rang.

It was coming in on line one and she saw what the caller ID said: Titans Boxing Club.

_Oh, no_, she thought. _He's been hurt. He pushed himself too hard and then he got punched in the face and now he's got a concussion. He's going to spend the rest of his life talking to garbage cans and being afraid of pigeons._

Sally took a deep breath. _Calm down. I'm sure it's just a broken nose. No damage there…other than the nose_.

She reached for the phone and turned on a headset so that she could talk while typing.

"Sally Logan," she called.

"Hello, mother," Garfield said on the other line.

"Garfield," gasped Sally. "Are you all right?"

"Uh…yea. Am I supposed to be?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you ask if I was OK?"

"I-I…Garfield why _are _you calling?"

"Well I was just wondering if I could go to the arcade with a couple of guys from the club."

"Uh-huh. And who are 'a couple of guys from the club'?"

"Robin and Cyborg."

"What?"

"That's their in-ring name. I'll tell you their real names later. So can I go?"  
Sally sighed. "I-I don't know, Garfield."

There was a sound of small struggling.

"Let me talk to her," someone else said.

"I'll deal with her," she head Garfield say.

"Hello, Mrs. Logan?" asked a voice.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Logan with a bit of content in her voice.

"My name's Tim but you can call me Robin. See, me and my friend Victor-his name is Cyborg-were wondering if Garfield could come to the arcade with us for a while. We promise to take good care of him and return him in one piece."

Before Mrs. Logan could respond there were sounds of more struggling. "Hey, Mrs. Logan?" asked another voice. "This Cyborg. Uh-listen, I promise that you have nothing to worry about with Garfield. We'll keep an eye and ear on him and you don't have to worry about us. We're both nice kids and we're always sober."

Garfield's mother gave a content sigh. "Tell him that he can go but I want him back before eleven."

"Thank you," said Cyborg. There was another sound of struggling and then she could hear Cyborg's voice saying, "Garfield, your mummy said you can come and play."

Sally Logan cut the line.

* * *

"Whatever," said Garfield as Cyborg hung up the phone. "So how far is the arcade?"

"Twenty minutes," explained Robin. "Hey, Bruce," he called the opposite end of the gym. "I'll see you at home. Me and the guys are going to the gym."

"Fine," Bruce called back. "I'll keep your dinner in the oven."

The trio had been walking for three minutes when Garfield broke the silence.

"So, Robin…you live with Bruce?"  
Cyborg gulped. His face didn't show it but his inner emotions were showing that he was nervous.

Robin gave a small sigh and then quickly said, "Yea. He's my dad…in a way."

"What way-if you don't mind me asking-is that?"

Robin looked at Garfield as they continued to walk. "I'm adopted. He took me off the streets when I was about 12 or so. He did the same with my older brother Dick. He adopted him after his parents were killed in an accident."

"Oh," said Garfield. He swallowed a buildup of saliva in his mouth. "So…"

"Hey, faggot!" someone shouted from across the street.

The three teens turned their head towards the call. They weren't answering it; they just wanted to see who was being addressed.

"Oh, crap," Garfield groaned with gritted teeth.

The boy across the street wore a sleeveless t-shirt-despite the cold weather-and blue jeans. His name was Josh Richet. A typical slacker and stoner who seemed to have friends only for the sole reason because of his drug resources. He was a dick in Garfield's eyes.

"Drake," he asked Robin as he got to the other side, "what the hell are you doing with this pussy?" he asked regarding Garfield.

Robin scoffed. "Screw off, Richet." He didn't have time for this.

Richet moved in between Garfield and Robin. "You went to the boxing club with Stone and Drake?" he asked with a hint of teasing in his voice.

_Don't look away_, thought Garfield. _It'll just make him think you're scared of him._

"Did the little pussy shower with you guys?" Richet asked Cyborg and Robin. "Man, I saw this guy in the showers after gym once. Talk about small."

_NO!_

"Shut your goddamn mouth," spat Garfield.

Richet looked surprised. "Oh, wow. Did they teach you how to talk tough too? Think you can hit me, Logan? Think you're tough enough? Try it. I dare you. Try it, you dick-less little-"

Garfield's left fist shot out and struck Richet on the nose. There was a small crack and blood started to drip as his body hit the ground. Garfield stood over him.

"You got it," he said. He began to walk off towards the volcano.

"Hey, you asked for it," said Robin as Richet started to get up.

Cyborg and Richet's eyes met.

The black teen shrugged. "Man, if he hurt you that bad and this was his first day," Cyborg held up a fist, "imagine what _three_ _years_ of training could do."

Richet ran off and Cyborg caught up with Garfield and Robin.

"You OK, man?" he asked.

Garfield's fists were clenched tight and there was a bit of blood on the knuckles. His eyes showed the intense anger and he was breathing sharply through his nose.

"I-I can't believe I did that. What a grievous launch of anger."

"Relax," consoled Robin. "I'm just glad you did it before me."

Garfield looked at his knuckles and saw the bits of blood on them.

"Are you hurt?" asked Cyborg.

Garfield shook his head. "I'm fine, I just-well I guess he had it coming."

"We all have it coming, kid," said a voice behind the trio.

Garfield turned with the others and saw someone he did not recognize in his twenties. He was tall and muscular with long hair that didn't make him look like a hippie or white trash but…civilized.

"Dick," cried Robin as he opened his arms and hugged the man.

Dick opened up his arms and welcomed the teen. "How the hell are you?" he asked as he let Robin off. "Victor," he greeted and shook Cyborg's hand. He looked at Garfield. "Sorry, I don't think we've been introduced. My name's Dick Grayson. I'm Tim's brother."

* * *

The four males sat in a restaurant booth after Dick had driven them to the arcade where they had spent so much money-all Dick's after he insisted-over a period of two hours.

"So you and Tim are brothers?" Garfield asked Dick as he bit into a piece of pizza.

Dick nodded. "See, Bruce adopted me after my parents were killed in an accident. So he adopted me. And then when I'm in college he adopted Tim."

"And it was kinda the both of them who taught me to box," explained Robin. "See, Dick's original name was Robin but when he left he changed it to Nightwing, so he gave me his blessing to take it on."

Dick snorted. "You make me sound like I'm some sort of priest. 'Gave me his blessing'. Come on. You should try flattering yourself once."

Cyborg swallowed a piece of pizza. "Yea, but Tim's never gone to the state championship twice."

Dick sighed. "I went twice and I lost the last time."

"Yea," argued Cyborg, "but the first time you went…you went against the odds. They said you had odds of 15:1. You beat the odds. The second time…meh, win some, lose some. Can't win them all."

Garfield sipped his soda. "You won the state championship?" he asked Dick.

He nodded. "Yea." A smile appeared on his face. "Yea…I remember it clearly. It was about…it was three years ago. Robin and Cyborg had just started training at the gym with those girls. State championships were right here in Jump City. And that night…that night was the night I went under my new name: Nightwing.

"And I knew the odds were against me. Alfred told me, Bruce told me. The looks on the guys and girls' faces told me. But I went into that ring…and I fought the best fight of my life."

Garfield sat and listened in admiration. He always hoped that it would be like this. Sitting with friends, listening to stories about old fights in days when they were kings and wore gloves that were more powerful than any sword wielded by Arthur or any other of the knights.

_I've gotta stop thinking like this_, thought Garfield.

"And when it was done," continued Dick, "I couldn't tell which one of us had won. I was still thinking of those odds against me in my head as Bruce was pouring ice water down the front of my shorts."

"That's a killer," shuddered Robin.

Dick chuckled. "And when I heard the announcer say, 'And the winner and new state wide champ is Dick "Nightwing" Grayson', I thought I was going to faint."

"Wow," said Garfield in earnest admiration. "What's it like…to win a match. Any match."

Dick shrugged. "It's an amazing feeling. That's the general feeling. But everyone has a different individual feeling for it."

"Robin says his feelings are orgasmic when he wins," snickered Cyborg.

Robin's face went red. "I only said that once. And I said that because I had taken several hits to the head. I was a bit…topsy turey."

Dick nodded. "That may be why you were singing 'Do Re Mi' after Alfred and Bruce got you out of the ring."

* * *

After dinner, the four males went out cruising around Jump City. They spent the time talking, laughing mostly and just having a good time.

Garfield got dropped off at his apartment complex at 10:52PM.

"See ya, guys," he called as the drove off.

The three of them responded by sticking their hands out the windows and honking the horn.

As Garfield made his way into his apartment, he saw his mother laying on the couch in her pajamas. She sat up when she saw him.

"Hello, honey," she smiled. "Did you have a good time?"

Garfield smiled back with a much larger smile. "Mom," he said and then clapped his hands, "I had an _awesome _time. Just…you know…male bonding that kinda stuff."

"You didn't consume alcohol did you?" she asked.

Garfield sighed. "Yes, mom. We consumed alcohol to enhance our physical strength. Then we smoked a fat one and checked out the local prostitute community. Redheads can be very mean sometimes."

His mother gave a small smile. "You and your sarcasm," she said. She headed into the hallway. "I'm going to bed. Oh, and there's a letter for you on the table."

"Thanks," he called as the door to her bedroom closed. Garfield picked up the remote and turned on the TV. He turned it to MAD TV but found that it had not started yet. This gave him ample time to get to the table and see the letter that came for him.

He picked it up and headed towards the couch that faced the TV. As he sat down, he stared at the envelope and sighed. The letter was from his father.

To Be Continued…

OK, the whole shower thing. Don't go thinking that I'm gonna start having the boys falling in love with each other. Athletes shower after practicing and after matches. It's not fun and it's not something that's enjoyed by all. That's about all I'm going to say about the showering scene.

Anyway…please review…it'd mean a lot.


	4. Sharing and Sparring

Well, I'm glad that the last chapter got updates and I'm also glad that nobody wrote that I'm setting the stage for a BB/Robin story cause…no. That's not what this story is about. This is a story about boxing and friendship. Mostly it's going to be between the three boys but if you want me to add the girls then I will. I write for you and eventually I may bow to pressure. Anyway, enough rambling. Here's chapter four.

Chapter Four: Sharing and Sparring

Sunday was one of those days where things just zoomed past you before you knew what was happening. Garfield was glad the gym wasn't open that day because he greatly wanted to savor every bit of his training.

Monday was going by at a snail's pace however. The only highlight of the day so far was lunch. It was a time he usually spent writing poetry and eating until the bell rang. He did it outside his locker.

As he had just started finishing the title of his latest piece (He always made the title the last thing he wrote) he heard a scream from the stairwell.

"Oh, help me," said the voice. It clearly belonged to a woman. "No," cried the voice. "Leave me alone. You keep that in your pants."

Garfield had an idea of what was happening and didn't waste a minute throwing down his jot-book and pen and dashing towards the stairwell.

There he found no damsel in distress, but Robin and Cyborg. Both were splitting a gut.

"Sorry," laughed Cyborg. "I hope my cries didn't give you the wrong impression."

Garfield gave a small smile and raised eyebrow. "Not at all. What are you two doing here?"

"Looking for you," replied Robin. "We figured out that you have law second period so we kinda went looking when the lunch bell went."

Garfield sighed. "Oh, I wish I'd known; I already got a bagged lunch in my locker."

"Recycle it," stated Cyborg flatly. "Besides, we were gonna go out for pizza. I got my dad's car and we have…" he trailed off checking his watch, "forty minutes."

Garfield's hands hit his sides. "Why not? Just let me put my stuff away."

* * *

In Cyborg's car, Robin rode shotgun while Garfield sat in the back.

"So, Garfield," began Robin, "tell us about yourself. We didn't really talk about you much on Saturday night when that was me and Cy's intent."

Garfield shrugged. "What's to know?"

"Come on," said Cyborg. "There's got to be something interesting about you that we don't know. Hell, there's stuff about us you probably wanna know. You know, unless you find us boring or something?"

Garfield smiled. "Hardly the case. It's just…I don't know where to begin."

"The beginning would help," suggested Robin.

Before Garfield could open his mouth to begin, he was thrust to the side when Cyborg made a sharp turn into the pizza place.

"Ow," groaned Garfield as he slammed into the inside of the car door.

"Jeez, Garfield," chuckled Robin as Cyborg turned off the engine. "Buckle up or something."

* * *

The three teens selected a booth and sat in the comfortable seats. They were waiting for their order and conversation seemed to be the only way to pass the time.

"Come on, man," pleaded Cyborg. "Talk. We barely know anything about you."

Garfield gave an inner sigh. "Tell you what. I'll allow you to ask me any question…and I'll answer it."

"Fair enough," replied Robin. "Uh…lets see…do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Did you have one back where you lived before?" asked Cyborg.

"No."

"Got your eye on anyone right now?" asked Robin.

Garfield shrugged. "Maybe."

"Ever get laid?" asked Cyborg.

Garfield sighed. "Wouldn't I need a girlfriend for that?"

Robin shook his hands. "Whatever. Enough with the dumb questions, this is pointless. Look, just tell us about you. We don't really care if you have a tainted past or anything. Let me tell you something, Bruce took me off the streets. All right? I was a punk. I was a fighter, a survivor and a thief. Now if I can tell you that after knowing you less than a week-and that's a story I hardly tell people-then you can tell us a few things about you."

Robin's voice didn't sound angry but rather like he was trying to convince someone he had done bad things in the past but that was all behind him.

"Okay," replied Garfield. "My name's Garfield Logan. When I was really little, my dad walked out on my mom and me. He writes me lots of times but he never sends pictures or anything so basically I've been on this planet 17 years and I haven't been able to put a face to my father. My mom works really hard as a ADA and we do all we can to make ends meet. I've been bullied and ridiculed most of my life because I wasn't as big as everyone else so that's why I decided to take up boxing when I moved to Jump City. And the rest is…well you know the rest."

Cyborg nodded. "Thanks."

Garfield raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Sharing," replied Cyborg.

* * *

School came and went very quickly after lunch. Cyborg and Robin met Garfield by his locker.

"C'mon," urged Cyborg. "I wanna get to the gym quick today."

"How come?" asked Beast Boy.

"Monday is like a partner's day at the club. Bruce does some sort of draw and you do activities with that person for the whole time you're there. It's fun."

"Sounds like kindergarten," offered Garfield as they walked down the stairs to the hallway, which lead to the exit doors, which lead to the parking lot.

Cyborg wagged a finger. "Not if you ever get to work with one of the girls. Man, they always smell nice."

"Especially Starfire," said Robin whom instantly regretted saying that in present company.

"Hey, BB? Wanna hear a funny story?"

Robin's eyes went wide. "Don't, Cy!"

"I was in the changing room last Monday and all of a sudden, Robin comes running in."

Robin sighed and hung his head as the trio continued walking. There was no use stopping Cyborg from telling his story now. It would be told but he knew that he could get back at his friend.

"So," continued Cyborg, "Robin goes all the way up to the sink, starts running water, fills a cup full of cold water and pours it down his shorts."

Garfield looked at Robin and could only see his black hair as they walked towards Cyborg's car.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Well," explained Cyborg, "it seems he and Star were sparring in the ring. His glove slipped and he accidentally got a feel of Star's breasts. And I guess that got a bit too much for him."

Garfield began to laugh and looked at his embarrassed friend. "You got a boner while you were sparring?"

Robin muttered something in confirmation as he opened the back door to the car and climbed in the back seat. "But did Cy ever mention _why_ he was in the changing room when he was supposed to be at the heavy bag with Raven?"

Garfield looked over from the passenger seat to the driver.

"You got a boner over Raven?" he asked.

"No," replied Cyborg as he drove out of the school parking lot and towards the boxing club.

"Raven punched him and he got a bloody nose," smirked Robin.

Garfield laughed as steam seemed to seep through Cyborg's ears.

"Dude," exclaimed Garfield, "why'd she punch you?"

Cyborg groaned. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Oh, come on," complained Robin. "If you can tell something embarrassing about me then you should be able to tell something that's not even _half_ as embarrassing as that."

"Yea," agreed Garfield. "Quid pro quo."

Cyborg's head turned toward the passenger in the front seat. "The hell did you just say?"

Garfield gulped. "Uh…it means 'something for something'."

Robin leaned forward. "Where'd you learn that?"

_Great_, thought Garfield, _I make one little slip and it screws everything up._ "Foreign movie," he answered.

"Chinese?" asked Cyborg.

"Huh?"

"Was the foreign movie Chinese? Cause I saw that _Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon_ and that was a kick-ass movie."

"You're avoiding the question," reminded Robin. "Why did Raven punch you?"

Cyborg groaned again as he parked the car across the street from the gym. "I told her that she's pretty strong…for a girl. Then she punched me and said that she missed the bag. I'm just glad she pulled her punching."

"Listen up," instructed Bruce as soon as the teens had gotten changed. "Today's Monday so let's make pairing up quick as possible. Beast Boy, you'll be teaming with Robin. Starfire, you'll be going with Cyborg and Raven, normally today you'd train with me since I'm the only one left but I got a special guest today."

Almost like it was the scene of a movie, in stepped Dick. He smiled at Raven and proceeded towards the locker room. He emerged a few minutes later.

"OK," Bruce instructed, "you know who you're with and you know what to do. Asses and elbows!"

"What?" Garfield whispered to himself.

Robin shook his head. "It's his tough guy way of saying, 'Please do as I say'. Come on, we can jump rope for twenty minutes and then we'll switch with Cyborg and Star in the ring."

"Tim," called Bruce. "I wanna talk to you."

The boy sighed. "Go on without me," he told his friend. "I'll be with you in a minute."

* * *

In Bruce's office, Tim stood in front of the desk while Bruce sat behind it. The drapes were not covering the window.

"I don't think it's going to work," the older man said.

Tim sighed and put his hands on the table. "Come on, Bruce. I can do this. I'm am asking you to grant me this one request."  
Bruce sat back in his chair. "Go back to Gotham? For what? Tim, your father vowed never to come back there. You told me yourself."

Tim exhaled deeply. "Come on. If he is there, I want…" his voice began to choke, "…I want to see if he cares about me."

Bruce said coldly, "He doesn't care. If he did, he would have come back for you over five years."

"Things came up," said Tim sternly. "That's the way it was on the streets. And he figured that he was looking out for me by leaving."

Bruce sighed. "What good does it do to leave a 12 year old boy on the street to fend for himself? Tim, you thought he was dead. And to be all honest I think you would be better off knowing he was dead and believing he cared about you than for you to find out that he's alive and doesn't give a crap about you."

Tim pounded the table with his fists. "DON'T YOU EVER TALK THAT WAY ABOUT HIM!"

* * *

Out on the gym floor, Garfield Logan was skipping slowly away when he heard a large pounding erupt through the gym. It sounded like a grenade had detonated right above them.

"Oh, damn," groaned Dick as he looked up from the heavy-bag.

Garfield looked up and saw Tim yelling at Bruce. While there was no audio, Garfield could tell it was a very heated debate.

_A picture says a thousand words but a silent movie creates a thousand possibilities._

Tim suddenly saw that the drapes had been left open. He gave a small smirk and waved to the occupants below.

Bruce turned quickly around in his chair and lowered the drapes.

"Oh, dear," sighed Alfred. "This can never be good."

"Yea," agreed Dick. "But it's sure as hell interesting to watch."

There was the sound of a door opening and a second later Garfield could see Robin exiting down the stairs to the gym. He said nothing as he approached Garfield. He simply picked up a skipping rope and looked at his friend.

"How are you handling it?" he asked.

Garfield wasn't sure what he was talking about. "Handling what?"

"Skipping," explained Robin. "How're you doing?"  
Garfield shrugged. "It's hard to do. It's one of those things that looks easier than it looks."

"Just go one foot for six rotations and then switch. When you get really good at it, lower the number of rotations for each foot and pretty soon you'll be just like Star. She's the best skipper."

"Really?" asked Beast Boy as he began to take his friend's advice.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, switch! One, two, three, four, five, six, switch!_

While Garfield would eventually have to stop because the rope would get caught on his foot he found that this was really good exercise. After twenty minutes he could feel the sweat starting to from under his armpits and on his back.

"That's time," called Bruce out of nowhere. Robin and Garfield stopped skipping and saw that the gym owner as closer to the ring. "Robin, Beast Boy," he called over.

The two teens put the ropes back and approached the ring.

"I take it you've never sparred before?" Bruce asked Garfield.

"Nope," replied Garfield.

"Well that's going to be interesting," remarked Alfred. "Do you _want_ to spar, Garfield?"  
Garfield nodded. "I didn't come here just to skip."

"All right then," said Bruce as he clapped his hands together lightly. "Tim, you come in my corner. Garfield, you've got Alfred."

Garfield climbed into the ring and opened his mouth, inviting the mouth guard in then stuck his hands into two sparring gloves. He allowed Alfred to apply the headgear to his head and could feel the tension building in his stomach.

_I'm gonna fight Robin! Man, I hope he goes easy on me._

The headgear certainly felt strange. Almost like someone was confining his face to an area that was too small.

"Robin's going to pull his punches," advised Alfred, "so don't be afraid of him. And don't be afraid of hitting him also. He's taken a lot of shots to the face since I've known him and I believe he can handle you. Don't hit below the belt-you know that and…I'm afraid I can't think of anything else."

There was the sound of a small bell ringing and Garfield walked with a confident air to confront his friend.

Robin's shots were good and Garfield could tell that he was holding back. Whenever he got the chance, Garfield would throw his fists at Robin's face. After about a minute and a half, there was the sound of the bell again.

Garfield returned to his corner and allowed Alfred to remove the mouthpiece.

"That was good," commented the Englishman. "Try to defend your ribs a bit more when he's punching you. A good shot can break them if it's powerful enough." He presented a squeeze bottle in front of Garfield. "Open," he commanded.

Garfield complied and allowed the water to directly into his mouth. When it was full, he swished the liquid around in his mouth and then swallowed it.

Alfred presented a bucket. "Spit."

"Oh," said Garfield. "Sorry, I was kinda thirsty."

In Robin's corner, Bruce hadn't offered him any water or anything. All he was mostly doing was just criticizing.

"You're used too much energy out there," he huffed. "Do that again and you'll be dead tired by the end of the next round. Come on, Tim, head out of the ass."

The bell rang again and the two went at it again.  
Garfield was more protective of his ribs but could tell that this time Robin was really pulling his punches. In fact…he almost looked kinda sloppy in there.

"Come on," called Bruce fiercely. "Box him!"

_Someone sure likes to win_, thought Garfield.

He drove a left hook into Robin's cheek.

"Tim," shouted Bruce, "head out of the ass!"

Garfield saw the anger rise from the rest of Tim's body and into his fists. Before he had a time to react, he could see Tim's glove strike him directly in the center of his face.

_He forgot to pull that one_, thought Garfield as he crashed his back on the ring. He lay there for a second before getting up. He stood in a fighting stance but then stopped when he head Starfire gasp and Cyborg say, "Whoa!"

Garfield suddenly felt like he had a runny nose or something. This was definitely the weirdest time for one…in fact he didn't even remember having one before he got in the ring. He wiped his nose with his glove and quickly wiped that on his shirt.

It was then that he noticed it. On his shirt was not snot but blood.

Now the crimson liquid was dripping fiercely from his nostrils and onto the ring.

"Dammit," he cursed and tilted his head up towards the ceiling. A second later he saw Alfred and could instantly feel a sharp cold feeling come all over his body. He grunted in discomfort.

"I know it's uncomfortable," he explained, "but it's all we can do. I'll help you out of the ring and then we must get you to the emergency room."

_Emergency room? What the…?_

The pain now burst from his nose and registered in his brain. He groaned in pain and cursed silently under his breath.

"I'll go with you," he heard Robin say.

"Damn, Tim," observed Dick, "did you have to be so rough?"

* * *

Twelve minutes later, Bruce Wayne sat in his office in a mood of rage. He had already called Garfield's mother and thankfully she wasn't overly concerned and demanding a settlement like he had thought. He was also in shock over what Tim had done.

Too much anger in him. He let his emotions get the best of him and he let it out on that poor Logan kid.

He checked his watch. They were probably getting into the ER just now.

Robin had broken Garfield's nose.

To Be Continued…

Well, that was something. I'm probably going to update in about a week.


	5. Analyzing and Attacking

Greetings, I'm back. I find it a bit sad that I can update this quicker than 'How it came to be' but give me time. I just need that. Well, here's chapter five. I warn you that this chapter uses the N-word. It uses it only once but this is just a warning. I don't want any hate mail coming my way.

* * *

Chapter Five: Analyzing and Attacking

As Garfield "Beast Boy" Logan sat with Alfred Pennyworth and Tim "Robin" Drake in the ER waiting room he continued to hold the ice pack over his newly broken nose.

Alfred sat between the two teens reading a _Time_ magazine. He knew that it was always awkward when two people hurt each other unintentionally.

Robin leaned forward to look at Garfield, whose head was still looking at the ceiling. Chances are he was going to have a stiff neck in the morning.

"How are you?" he asked.

Garfield tilted his head down and looked back at him. "Aside from the broken nose, I'm one hundred percent."

_Sarcasm, _noted Robin. _He's pissed off and I don't blame him._

Alfred looked down from his magazine. "Keep your head up," he said.

Garfield quickly obeyed.

Tim leaned back in the plastic chair and sighed. He felt bad. He also felt scared. Bruce was definitely going to kill him when he got home. Either that or paralyze him.

_I haven't even said I'm sorry to Beast Boy_, he thought to himself.

And it was true. The entire car ride over, Tim had said nothing. The one who did all the talking was Alfred. He just kept telling Garfield that there was nothing to worry about; everyone gets a broken nose one; yadda yadda yadda.

"Whatcha reading?" Garfield asked. His voice sounded like he had a really bad cold.

"An article about gambling," Alfred replied. "It's dull. Nothing I haven't heard on _Dateline _or _20/20_ before." He flipped the pages. "Ah, Paris Hilton," observed Alfred as he flipped to the next page.

Robin gave an inner sigh. It seemed that time was just slowing down by the minute.

He leaned forward towards Garfield. "You having trouble breathing?"

Garfield-still looking at the ceiling-shrugged.

Robin could sense the anger that was probably inside him but didn't want to release it. There were other people waiting and he was probably waiting for until when they were alone. But if that anger continued to build, once released he would rage. A raging beast who's power wouldn't be known until it was all over and done with.

"Garfield Logan?" a voice asked.

Looking up, Tim saw that the doctor had finally arrived.

Garfield stood up. "Right here." He walked towards the doctor with his head tilted down now.

"We'll be here when you're done," Alfred said.

As the sliding doors slid shut, Robin sighed out loud.

"There's nothing to worry about," Alfred said, not looking up from his magazine.

"What?" asked Robin.

"His nose. He'll be fine and sparring by tomorrow, if not the day after."

"I know that," said Tim as he looked into the ER.

"Then why are you nervous?" asked Alfred. His eyes remained on the words he read.

"I'm not nervous."

"Your fingers keep going up and down one by one. I can hear them. It's very hard to read when I hear what sounds like raindrops on the chair. You only do that when you're nervous."

"Sorry."

"So what are you worried about?"  
Robin swallowed. "Garfield…Bruce more."

"He won't be too upset with you," said Alfred. "He pushed you too hard in there. I never swear at a person when they're in the ring. Gets them too angry. I taught him that and I would've thought he'd pass that on. Apparently not." There was a pause as he turned the page. "Why are you concerned about Garfield?"

Tim gave a small cough. "When I grew up on the streets I saw a lot of people. Lots of different faces, you know? But there was always…like an aura about people and I could tell something about them that probably only they knew."

"I see," said Alfred. "You believe you're a…shaman or some other spiritual person."

Robin scoffed. "Hardly. I just get an aura around Garfield that…well he's rather complicated. I get _multiple_ auras. Like he can't forgive himself for something or that he's trying to discover who he is and that maybe boxing was that key. And now that I've kinda smashed his nose on the second day at the gym, I may have…ruined that for him."

"What do you get from me? What kind of _aura_?"  
Tim looked at Alfred. The old man's eyes were still fixated on the article.

"You're like an Obi-Wan Kenobi," examined Robin. "You're wise and tough but you only look wise. The tough part comes out of nowhere."

Alfred gave a small nod. "I like Alec Guinness. He should have won the Oscar for that part."

Twenty minutes later Garfield came out through the sliding doors with his head at a normal level and with a nose that looked a bit red but it was fixed and it hadn't started to swell. There was a small paper bag in his hand.

_Prescription_, thought Robin. _Everybody gets one._

Alfred stood up. "Are you all right?"

Garfield nodded. "It's still a bit sore but the doctor says there's no permanent damage. Says I should hold sparring for at least a day or two."

Alfred smiled and set the magazine down on the chair for the next person who would come around and read it. "Excellent. You two wait here. I'll get the car."

Alfred quickly exited the ER before either of the teens had a chance to request accompanying him. They stood inside waiting. There was silence between them.

"One of us has to say something," said Garfield.

Robin sat down in one of the chairs and put his head in his palms. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "I-I never meant to hurt you. I'm such a jerk."

And before Garfield could say anything in response he heard Robin begin to sob quietly.

_Oh, good god_, thought Garfield in his mind. This was something he wasn't expecting.

Robin-Tim-seemed like such a tough guy and now he was crying over a broken nose that he had given someone? There was more to Tim "Robin" Drake than met the eye it seemed.

Garfield sat down on the chair next to him and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder.

"Uh…there, there," he comforted as best he could. This wasn't very easy. It's always different when girls cry but when a guy cries…better hope that it's just because someone kicked him in the balls.

Tim sat up and wiped his tears away. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was…unnecessary."

"No," disagreed Garfield. "I mean…if you wanna cry, go ahead and cry. Nothing I can do to stop it. I may laugh at it later when I see you fighting in the ring and you look fearless but other than that…"

Tim sniffled. "I'm more upset with myself. I let my anger cloud my actions and BAM! I break your nose."

Garfield nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, you did. May I ask _why_ you didn't pull that punch?"

"You know how I grew up on the streets?"

Garfield nodded. "To an extent."

"Well, when we did, my father would occasionally leave his own marking on the outside walls of buildings. About last week, I was reading an article about a robbery in Gotham that took place at night. And in the picture for that article, I could see it. It was the mark my father would leave." He looked Garfield straight in the eyes. "I think my father is alive and back in Gotham."

Garfield couldn't really say anything except, "Whoa."

"And Bruce," growled Robin. "Doesn't even think there's a remote possibility that it's him. Just wants me to move on and forget about my dad."

_Great_, thought Garfield,_ time for Garfield Logan, unprofessional psychologist._

"I don't really think its that," explained Garfield. "I think what Bruce is really trying to do is just protect you. Keep you from getting hurt. I mean, what if your dad doesn't wanna see you or something. I mean…I know I wanna see my dad but…I'm honestly not sure if _he_ wants to see me."

There was the sound of a horn honking outside.

"Let's go," said Robin.

* * *

"I honestly can't believe you sometimes," began Bruce as Robin sat down at the dining room table in their house. "What the hell were you thinking when you were in that ring?"

"Come on, Bruce," said Dick as he ate his penne. "It's not like _you_ really helped any."

"Stay out of this, please," said Bruce. He turned to Robin. "Do you have anything to say?"

Tim swallowed the pasta in his mouth and cleared his throat. "It's not like _you_ really helped any."

Bruce put his head in his hands. "And what precisely does that mean?"

"Don't tell me to get my head out of my ass," Robin said sternly. "You must have had yours in _your_ ass because Alfred taught you not to swear at people in the ring."

"Oh," cooed Dick. "This is interesting, since Bruce told me he'd never do that ever again."

Robin looked at Bruce. "You know what this means?" A smile appeared on his face. "You're going to hell."

"Grow up," said Bruce. "Did you at least apologize to him?"

Robin nodded. "Multiple times. He's a very forgiving person. Unlike some." He put some more of the noodles in his mouth and then looked at the older man. "By the way, am I going to get an apology?"

"For what?"

"For denying my request."

"What request?" asked Dick.

"It's nothing," replied Bruce.

"My father may be back in Gotham," stated Tim.

Bruce sighed again. He found that he would be doing a lot of that in the months to come.

* * *

After constantly explaining to his mother that he was all right, Garfield Logan was able to finish his homework in peace. He had brought his school backpack with him to the ER but left his gym stuff back at the club. He would have to get it tomorrow when he went.

_Good thing I kept my wallet in my backpack pocket_, he thought as he picked up his copy of _Digital Fortress_.

There was buzz. It came from the kitchen. Garfield knew that somebody was obviously buzzing them so he burst out of his room and went to the intercom system.

"Hello?" he asked as he pushed the button.

"Is this Garfield?" asked a voice. While it sounded familiar, Garfield couldn't quite put his finger on who it was.

"Yea, this is me."

"It's Raven, from the gym. I've got your gym stuff."

_Raven_, thought Garfield. _How unexpected._

"Come on up," he said into the box as he pushed the button to open up the door downstairs. He went to the front door and opened it up as an invitation for her to enter as soon as she exited the stairs or elevator.

_Probably stairs_, thought Garfield.

About a minute later there was a knock at the open door.

"Come on in," Garfield softly called from the kitchen. He exited out of there and there stood Raven, dressed appropriately for the weather, with his gym bag in her hand.

"I-uh-brought you your stuff," she said. She took off her shoes and approached Garfield, placing the bag in his hand.

He smiled. "Oh, thanks, Raven. I didn't really expect to get this back until tomorrow."

She shrugged. "It's no problem really." She looked at his face. "How is it?"

"The nose? Fine, although it's still just a tiny bit sore."

She nodded. "That's good." She turned towards the door and her shoes. "Well, I'll see you later."

"Do you-uh-want anything?"

She turned back at him and smiled. "No thanks. Besides, I gotta go otherwise I'm gonna miss the bus."

Garfield was shocked. "You took the city bus all the way over here?"  
Raven nodded. "I live on the other side of town."

Garfield looked over at the clock on the kitchen wall. "Well, it's gonna be a while before it gets there. I'll wait with you."

While Raven would have normally said no, she found something a bit interesting in the simplicity of Garfield Logan.

_Why not_, she thought.

* * *

"Why do you do it?" Garfield asked her as they sat on the bench.

"Do what?"

"Boxing."

Raven shrugged. "It's interesting. Plus you don't normally see a lot of girls in the ring these days. I figure…I could make it popular. Well, in this area anyway." She turned to Garfield. "Why do you do it?"

A laugh escaped his mouth. "Mostly to kick people's asses when they wanna screw around with me."

There was silence now.

"You like it?"

Garfield looked at Raven. "Like what?"

"Boxing. I mean, a broken nose can really deter someone who's just starting out."

With a shrug Garfield simply said, "I aim to surprise."

Raven smiled. "That's cool." She paused and then said, "Do you know how Starfire joined?"

Garfield shook his head.

"Well," began Raven, "I live with my father and we live in an apartment complex across town. So one day, two summers ago, I decided to go skipping on my roof because I just started at the club. And across the roof, I could see someone watching me. I couldn't really tell who it was but they were watching me. So after about five minutes I asked her what she was looking at. She said she was watching me and admired my _technique_. I invited her onto my roof and I saw her skip up a storm. Long story short, when I took her to the club to join, she thought it was a skipping club. So it took her a while to get the whole boxing thing into her system."

"Ah," exhaled Garfield.

There was a loud hum and the bus appeared.

Raven looked at Garfield. "I guess this is where I get on," she said.

He nodded. "I guess so."

As she stepped on he asked, "Will I see you tomorrow?"  
She turned to him and said, "Of course."

As the bus pulled away, Garfield slowly walked back to his place.

_Raven and me? It might work. Might not._

_

* * *

_

Two weeks had passed and in came early December. And in December came the cold weather and snow.

This of course made it more difficult and frustrating for the Saturday morning jogs.

"Dude," commented Garfield as he panted heavily in the locker room. "I'm serious, Robin. Why don't you just buy Bruce some treadmills for Christmas and have him put them in the gym. I'd be so much more comfortable."

Robin sipped his hot chocolate carefully. "I would but he has this tendency to not listen to me when I talk about that."

"You know, we could always just refuse to run," suggested Cyborg. "That way…we wouldn't have to run."

"Gandhi would approve," said Garfield.

"Yes," agreed Robin, "but then Gandhi would have nowhere to train. Bruce threatened me once saying that if I don't run…I don't train. At all."

"Ouch," remarked Cyborg.

"Indeed," replied Robin. "Oh, hey, Garfield. We're having a little get together at my house later and then Cy's gonna sleep over. You wanna do the same?"

_Why the hell not?_ Garfield asked himself.

"Why the hell not?" he replied with a smile.

"Cool," smiled Robin. "We'll come and get you at your place, then meet Raven and Star at their place and then head to my place."

"Sounds like a plan," Garfield said as he pulled off his shirt.

* * *

It was very dark when the three boys left Garfield's apartment complex to walk the ten minutes to the bus stop.

"What're we going to do?" asked Garfield.

Cyborg smiled and patted his backpack. "I bought Dodgeball on DVD yesterday. Can't wait to see it."

For some strange reason Garfield laughed at his friend's excitement. And Robin did also.

_This is what it's all about_, thought Garfield. _It's about friends. It's about…staying up late and watching comedy movies._

"Help," someone cried from the alley. "Help me…he's having a heart attack."

The three teens turned their heads and saw in the alley, a man standing over the body of another. The second man was on the ground, his right hand on his chest and his left arm straight out.

"Come on," said Robin as he speed walked into the alley. The two others followed and carried their bags with them.

"Is he OK?" Garfield asked as he got down close to the man on the ground.

He looked at the man and began thinking about what to do.

The man's eyes shot open like something out of a horror movie.

Before Garfield Logan could react or scream in fright he felt a clenched fist strike the side of his head hard. It felt like there was a rock or another hard object inside his palm.

He fell over onto the ground with his back in the air. He could hear Cyborg and Robin gasp and the other man get up.

Stay down, Garfield thought as he tried his hardest to push the pain to the back of his mind.

"You two, get down on your knees," the first man said.

While Garfield couldn't see anything he could picture in his mind what was going on.

"You think that doesn't mean you, nigger?" the second man asked. "Get down on your knees."

"Do it, Victor," hissed Garfield. He felt like a parent for that brief moment-calling Cyborg by his real name in a time of urgency. Then again he wasn't sure if Cyborg could even hear him.

_I'm gonna die._

"Look," Garfield heard Robin say, "I've got money in my back pocket. I've got about two hundred in there. If I give it to you, will you let us go?"

"Maybe…stand up slowly."

Garfield turned his head towards his friends. He could sense the other man behind him and found it best if he didn't do anything yet.

Robin stood up slowly as instructed while Cyborg stayed where he was though he looked very pissed off about the use of the N-word.

"Reach for it carefully," growled the man to Robin. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a switchblade. "Or I'll cut ya."

Robin held up his hands to show that his intentions were strictly honorable. With one hand still up, he used the other one to reach towards the back of his pants. He stepped forward one step.

"You'll need the money," Robin said quietly, "to replace the teeth I'm gonna knock out of your goddamned mouth." With his other hand he struck the man in the side of his mouth ensuring a visit to the dentist.

Cyborg screamed and charged at the other man.

Garfield got up slowly and could see his two friends pounding the hell of out of the two would be robbers.

"NEVER…HURT…ANY…OF…MY…FRIENDS," Cyborg bellowed into the man's face as he punched the man's body.

Garfield could suddenly feel his body being lifted up and heard Robin call, "Come on, Cyborg."

Running through the streets with his backpack still on his back, Garfield Logan was running through the streets like a mad man.

"There's the bus," shouted Cyborg.

By this point Robin had let go of Garfield's arm as they chased after the now departed bus.

"Hey," shouted Robin. "Wait!"

The others began doing the same. As soon as Robin was close enough to touch the bus he began pounding on it with his fist.

"Stop," he cried. "Goddamn it, stop!"

The bus slowed down and eventually came to a stop. The boys rushed to the doorway as the driver opened the doors and asked for exact change.

As soon as they climbed aboard and paid the appropriate fee, they sat down on the nearest available seats and began panting.

"Are you OK, little man?" Cyborg asked Garfield.

Garfield winced and touched his head lightly. "My head hurts like hell. There any glass in it or something?"

Cyborg shook his head. "No, there's nothing in it as far as I can tell?"

Without noticing it, Garfield's bottom lip began to quiver.

"Are you OK?" asked Robin.

Like Robin before him in the hospital, Garfield "Beast Boy" Logan began to sob.

"I was so scared," he said, "'cause I thought that they were gonna kill me or something and that they'd kill you."

Robin nodded. "I know…I felt the same way…you know…wondering if this is going to be my final moments on earth or will I be lucky to see tomorrow. I had to deal with that a lot before I lived with Bruce. People fighting over food, money, women, property, it was terrible."

Garfield stopped sobbing and sniffled. "Is that what it was like?" he asked Robin.

Robin nodded his head. "Yea. That was basically it."

A few minutes later, the bus stopped and Raven and Starfire boarded.

"What is the matter with Garfield?" asked the bronze skinned girl.

"Aw, you know," explained Cyborg. "Dude's got the sniffles. It's terrible out there. Chances are he's gonna give it to me and then the whole gym's gonna be sick with West Nile or something like that."

Garfield managed a chuckle and faked a sneeze. He knew that neither of them would talk about what happened until they were off the bus and away from all the strangers.

To Be Continued…

Yes, I know. Garfield always seems to get hurt in the last couple of chapters. But don't worry, next chapter's gonna be fun. Sorry once again about the use of the N-word. It won't happen again.

Shadow Avenger


	6. Love and Competitions

Hey, I'm happy to say that I've finally completed chapter six. And you know the drill. Read, review, blah, blah, blah.

I'm sorry, please read and review and I shall be very grateful. Reviews inspire me.

Chapter Six: Love and Competitions

The mustached man stood beside the much larger black man and introduced the people who were coming forward.

"Blade…Laser…Taser…I believe you already know my _Consigliere_ Me'Schell. And meet Fran Stalinofskivitchdavitovichsky. In her home country of Romanovia, dodgeball is the national sport and her nuclear power plant's team won the championship five years running, which makes her the deadliest woman on earth with a dodgeball."

* * *

"Uni-brow," cried Cyborg in a triumphant laughter and the rest of the group followed.

While Garfield had expected _Dodgeball_ to be full of dumb toilet humor, it was actually like chocolate cake: You know too much isn't good for you but it's just so good.

As the laughter continued, Robin lifted the remote and paused the DVD.

"I'll be right back," he said getting up and stretching his arms. "I gotta pee."

"Tha-that's wonderful," said Raven in a monotone sarcastic tone. "If you can, bring a journal with you in there. Since you've told me what you're going to be doing in there…now I need to know every little detail."

"Got a pen?" asked Robin as he headed off towards the bathroom.

"Hurry back," called Starfire.

Garfield looked at the frozen movie frame on the big screen TV and smiled.

When Robin returned Cyborg turned to him and said, "Hey, Robin, tell Beast Boy about the box."

_The box?_ thought Garfield.

"The box?" asked Robin. "I haven't told you about it, Gar?"

Garfield shook his head.

"Well, Bruce was driving all of us in a van to the beach one day and as we're driving back from the beach with two girls that I know. So we're driving along when we pass this guy and the girls say, 'Hey, we know him. Pull over'. Okay. We stop and the guy comes running up. We all look at each other because this guy is a freak. He's got long, greasy hair and a straggly beard, and his clothes are all raggedy. But the strangest thing about him is, he's holding this box, this beat-up metal box almost completely wrapped in duct tape."

Garfield stared at Robin. The others were silent as he continued.

"So he gets in and we're driving for a while. The girls are talking to this guy you know, 'How are you?' etcetera. Then one of the girls asks this guy, 'What's in the box?' So all of a sudden he goes crazy. He's like shouting, 'Don't goddamn ask. Just shut the hell up, you stupid woman. Don't goddamn ask.' So we're all looking at them and the other girl tries to talk to him, she says, 'Chill'. So he's quiet for a while and we keep driving. Then the girl asks him, 'By the way, what's in the box?' So here we go again. Well by this time Bruce is getting pissed. He hits the brakes and just throws the guy out of the van. And then the guy wants to fight Bruce and they do but then it literally turns into a fight for the box. The guy gets his ass kicked and while this is happening, I took the box and we just drove off."

Robin fell silent. Garfield looked at him.

"So…what was in the box?" he asked.

"DON'T GODDAMN ASK!" the others erupted in a gratified shout.

Garfield almost felt his heart jump out of his chest.

The others began to laugh and Cyborg patted Garfield on the back. "Oh," he said with a chuckle, "you did good man. Didn't get too scarred and you don't seem pissed by it all."

Robin sat down and picked up the remote.

"Before we continue to watch the DVD," said Starfire, "perhaps we could converse briefly about the exchange of Christmas presents."

"Oh yea," said Cyborg. "I mean it is that time of the year."

"What do we do for Christmas?" asked Garfield.

"The last Friday before the Christmas break starts, we all exchange presents to each other. Everybody gets a present for everyone. But we have a limit. Like, nothing over twenty dollars."

"That sounds cool," said Garfield. "Do we gotta get stuff for Alfred and Bruce?"  
Robin shook his head. "No, they always get something really good for each other."

"Now that that's settled with, can we continue the movie?" suggested Cyborg.

* * *

It was 11PM when the two girls left for home leaving the three teenage males alone.

Robin had inserted his _Family Guy_ DVD into the machine and the boys were laughing at the nonsensical humor in front of them. They had gotten out tons of junk food and were cramming them down their throats.

"Just a sec," said Garfield. "Won't this kinda screw up our training?"

Cyborg-who's mouth had too much in it to comment-made a sound of agreement.

"Yea," agreed Robin. "But if you want, we can work it out in the gym in our basement. Bruce won't mind."

Garfield raised an eyebrow as he bit into a gummy worm. "You got a gym in your basement?"  
Robin nodded. "Bruce's parents left him a lot of money when they died and he's got a couple millions though he refuses to live that way. Yea, the gym downstairs is pretty good. I heard him saying that later in the New Year he's gonna have us all over here so we can work in the weight room."

"Cool," smiled Cyborg. He rearranged himself on the sofa. "So, BB. I noticed that Raven kinda had her eyes on you tonight?"

Garfield could feel his cheeks turning red and hoped that he could keep all the dirty thoughts he had about his attractive female friend out of his head.

"Yea," agreed Robin. "She's obviously got the hots for you. You shoulda made your move tonight. I would'a let you two use the basement for a little while."

Garfield blushed while the two others laughed at the thought of their friends doing the deed in Bruce's basement.

"Well," retorted Garfield, "if we had the basement, I take it you and Starfire would be in your bedroom."

"Oh," laughed Cyborg. "That's true."

Robin gave a chuckle. "I told you, I have feelings for her but I know she doesn't have any for me. We're just…friends."

"More like friends with benefits," giggled Cyborg.

"Then why'd she tell you to hurry back when you went to take a leak?"

Robin's cheeks started to turn a bit red as well and he was starting to stammer. "W-w-well…she…probably wanted to get on with the movie."

"Oh, what crap," laughed Garfield.

Tim found a pillow and threw it at Garfield. "Screw you," he said with a laugh. "Let's just watch Family Guy."

But just before he could push the 'play' button, a voice said, "Having fun?"

Garfield felt his heart stop but then let it resume it's regular routine when he saw it was Bruce.

"Yes," nodded Robin.

"Good," said Bruce giving a ghost of a smile. He was about to turn and go back to wherever he came from when he turned and said, "Oh, I found out the date of the state tournament. It's going to be in late June, near the end of school."

"Boo-ya," cheered Cyborg softly.

"Is it mandatory?" asked Garfield.

Bruce looked at him. "You can choose if you want to go or not. But I would encourage you to, Garfield. By the time June comes, you'll be ready for it." He turned and retreated back to wherever he came from.

"You should go, BB," encouraged Cyborg. "You'd kick some featherweight ass."

Garfield frowned. "Featherweight?"

"Yea," said Robin. "It's your weight class. Cause, let's face it, you wouldn't want to face a guy like Bruce on your first match, huh?"

Garfield shook his head. "I'd rather not."

"How much you weigh?" asked Cyborg.

Garfield blew some air out of his mouth in thought. "Bout…131."

"You're a featherweight," summarized Robin. "If you keep with the training, you'll kick some serious ass in your age group."

"I gotta get me some new trunks," said Cyborg. "My last ones got torn up in the washing machine."

"What're your colors?" asked Garfield.

"Oh, is like a light blue and silver."

"Mine's red and black," said Robin.

"Cool," Garfield said as he lay back.

It was one in the morning when the boys got changed into their pajamas-or lack their of in Cyborg's case-and climbed into the sleeping bags. They continued to watch the DVD.

At 2:30AM, Robin turned off the DVD and the TV.

"Well," he yawned, "it's getting late. Time to hit the hay."

Garfield yawned. "Hey, dudes. What do you want for Christmas?"

"Starfire in a nice hot little Santa outfit," mumbled Robin. He had obviously not meant to say that but before he could say so, he fell asleep.

"Carmen Electra," snored Cyborg.

Garfield lay in his sleeping bag for a minute but found that he couldn't get to sleep. He moved towards his overnight bag and pulled out a piece of pen and paper that he kept in one of the pouches. Using what limited lighting he had, he began to write a letter to his father.

_Dear Dad,_

_I know it's been a while since I've written to you so I'll try to fill you in as much as I can. I joined a boxing club a couple weeks ago and I must say…it's helped. I feel…broader almost. Like my body width has expanded or something. But it doesn't matter. I'll send you a picture along with this letter._

_And while I'm at it, let me tell you about two friends of mine. The first one is…probably the best friend I've ever had. His name's Tim Drake and…he broke my nose._

_Yea, yea, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm still friends with him but the truth is he forgot to pull one of his punches but you know what? I'm fine. Tim's in-ring name is Robin and believe me, he moves just as fast as the bird. Right now I'm sleeping over at his house and we've just goofed around for the last couple of hours._

_The other guy is Victor "Cyborg" Stone. Huge, huge dude. He used to play football but now he boxes. He's a cool dude, he looks out for me kinda like he's an older brother to me or something…he's more like an adopted older brother cause he's black but who cares?_

_I was told tonight that there's some boxing competition coming up and I'm in the featherweight division. But that's in the summer so I got plenty of time to train and improve my stamina and all those other things._

_Well, right now it's pretty late so…I guess I'll go to sleep._

_Garfield_

_PS: Mom won her first case in town._

Garfield fell asleep after he put the letter away.

* * *

At about 7:35 that morning, Garfield awoke to the laughter of Robin and Cyborg as they sat at a nearby coffee table laughing as they ate their Frosted Flakes.

"Good morning," he greeted drearily. "Do you guys always get up so early?"

"Yea," replied Robin. "Well, I know I do on Sunday's cause I get in the extra training downstairs."

Garfield wanted to get up but his position on the ground was so comfortable he didn't dare move from it.

"You still tired?" asked Cyborg.

Garfield mumbled something in agreement.

Cyborg reached across the table and handed his friend a mug. "Drink this."

Too tired to think about what it might possibly be, Garfield almost gagged when he felt the coffee go down his throat.

"Jesus," he coughed as he handed the mug back, "that stuff tastes like pee."

"Oh, I think he likes it," Robin observed. "As for me, I prefer hot chocolate."

"Hey," exclaimed Cyborg. "Maybe that should have been my name. Hot Chocolate, hot in the ring and hot with the ladies."

"Yea," agreed Robin sarcastically, "Stereotypes Annonymous would love that."

Cyborg laughed.

_Interesting,_ thought Garfield, _Cy doesn't really have any problems making jokes about him being black._ Garfield instantly remembered what Cyborg said to Robin in the changing room.

"Yo, BB," called Cyborg from the chair. "What do you want for Christmas?"

"Uh…there's a book that's coming out soon that I want. It's called The Gloves by…well I forget who it's by but you'll find it."

"Do I gotta read it?"

"No."

"Good."

* * *

After breakfast, the three boys entered Robin's basement to be in awe of their friend's in-home gym.

"Sweet mother of God," whispered Garfield.

"Jackpot," sighed Cyborg.

"And this is my basement," said Robin. "Sorry if it seems a bit cluttered."

There were weight machines all over the place. Treadmills, bench presses, cycles, the works.

"I know what I want for Christmas," said Cyborg. "And it is this basement."

Garfield (after a few minutes of stretching) got on one of three treadmills while his friends got on the other two.

"I got an idea," said Robin. "Let's have a race. We all start out at a certain speed and after like a minute of running at that speed, we increase it until there's only one person left cause you two are weak."

"Who said I'm weak?" asked Garfield defiantly.

"Sorry…I meant to say you're weaker than me."

Garfield gave a short laugh. "You're on. Let's start at 5.0 and go from there."

"Oh, the heat is on," said Cyborg.

Garfield knew that even though this wasn't a real race, it was a test. A test for himself to prove he could go that extra mile and run with the guys for as long as they could.

"Ready?" Robin asked.

"Ready," Cyborg replied.

"Go," said Garfield.

All three treadmills started at the same speed exactly. Every minute, the speed would increase slowly but surely. At 10.3 Garfield could start to feel the strain in his legs.

"You feeling tired?" he asked Cyborg.

Cyborg grunted.

"Is that a 'yes'?" smirked Robin.

Two minutes later Cyborg gave a shout of physical pain and stopped the machine. However he had hit the emergency stop button and slammed right into the padded wall.

"That's why those are there," explained Robin.

"Whatever," panted Cyborg as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Damn, my balls alone are probably sweating buckets."

"And that's one mental image that I really didn't need," said Garfield.

Two minutes later he shut down the machine and hoped off but now his legs seemed to be moving on their own.

"You win," Garfield said to Robin.

The winner shut down the machine and got off. "I make it a habit to."

At 1PM that afternoon, Garfield Logan waited with Tim "Robin" Drake for the bus back to Garfield's neighborhood.

"Hey," said Robin just as the bus was in sight, "the Thursday before school gets out for the break, there's gonna be a little boxing bout. JC High has boxers go against any boxers from the other school."

"Which school?" asked Garfield.

"Walkerton. The bastards."

"Why didn't Bruce tell me about it?"

Robin looked ashamed with himself. "Don't let him know you know but, he doesn't think you're ready."

"How long do I have to be ready?" asked Garfield as the doors to the bus opened.

"Two weeks," replied Robin as Garfield went up the stairs.

The doors slid shut and Garfield put his exact change inside. As the bus started to move, Garfield ran to the back of the bus with his backpack attached to his back. He pulled open a window and shouted to his friend, "I'm in."

To Be Continued…

Read and Review…you know the drill.

Shadow Avenger


	7. Preparation

Well, after a long time of…doing nothing, I finally updated. First off, let me just give a big thank you to zerowolfgirl who really got me motivated, went out and spread the word about this (what she and others call 'amazing') story. I can't wait to see the reviews that come in for this chapter.

But first, I need to thank some people: Calliope Mused, hoshi-ko88, RobinXStar (three times) Fan, NeveremoresAngel, Snea, Sweet Nymph, Tameranian Raven, Chibi Scooby, They-Call-Me-Orange and Sorceress of Demon Otters.

And I would also like to thank the one person who truly thinks this story sucks and I quote her review, "And you thought my story was bad! Have you even read yours before?"

Yes, Jinx the Sorceress…thank you for being so wrong! And confirming my doubts that you a bitter and volatile tempered girl.

So without further ado…here is chapter seven.

PS: Garfield and Raven get naked together in this chapter!

Chapter Seven: Preparation

For the past couple of hours that Tuesday afternoon, Garfield had been pushing himself the extra mile to show Bruce that he had the determination, the stamina and above all, the desire to be able to participate in this Thursday's boxing event at JC High. When practice was done for the day, Garfield sat in the changing room in thought. While Cyborg and Robin got undressed from the sweat-coated clothing, Garfield sat and had his thoughts on Bruce and what he thought of him.

"Yo, BB," called Cy as he wrapped his towel around himself. "As good as you are, you still need to think about your smell, you know?"

"Am I that good?" he asked the both of them.

Robin shrugged and rubbed a bruised shoulder blade that he had received while sparring with Cyborg. "Well…you're better than when you came in here, that's for sure."

"Am I good enough for Thursday though?" he wanted to know.

"That's up to you," said Robin. "I mean, I know that earlier Bruce definitely didn't want you in that ring with an opponent but…well you were pretty good on the speed bag today."

"'Cept for when you started rotating your fists in a wheel and you whacked yourself in the chin," Cyborg added.

"Oh, one time I did that," Garfield quickly retorted. "One time."

"Like, if you want to," said Robin as he moved towards the shower, "just say to Bruce, 'I want to be in the Thursday show at the school because I think I'm ready.'"

"Will it work?" asked Garfield as he started to pull off his t-shirt. He was having difficulty as the shirt has stuck to his coated chest.

"I don't know," said Robin as he threw off the towel and headed into the shower, instantly turning on the desired hot water.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," said Cyborg, "I'm going to join him-and I hope you do to cause if you don't I'm calling you _Reek_ Boy from now on. Damn, you might want to pick up a stronger deodorant."

* * *

Bruce Wayne sat behind the front desk while checking out a floor pan of Jump City High School's gym/auditorium. While he had often had done the same thing every year at the gym, he always wanted to make sure that he could fit his ring perfectly inside so that every spectator could see every hook and jab. 

"May I speak with you?" Garfield's voice asked. Bruce recognized it instantly, having worked with eh teen for a little more than a month now.

He looked up and with a friendly tone, replied, "Of course. Would you prefer it here or in the office?"

"Here," Garfield answered instantly. "Look, I really respect your opinion and no matter what you say, I still will but I just wanna go to you first."

"What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Garfield let out in one quick breath, "Am I good enough for the Thursday show?"

Bruce looked at him like he was peering into his soul.

"Yes," he replied.

Garfield let his jaw drop.

"I would have come to you sooner," continued Bruce, "however I didn't want you to think that this was something you had to do. I'm sorry."

A chuckle escaped from Garfield's mouth. "No, that's cool. I'm cool. But am I gonna be able to qualify?"  
Bruce nodded. "I think Walkerton mentioned having one fighter that needed matching up. His name is Adonis. You're about his stats. Just stick to your training and…I'll save this for the fight."

Garfield extended his hand for Bruce to shake.

He took it. "Good luck, Beast Boy."

Just as Garfield was about to exit the club, Bruce called him back. In his hands was a digital camera. "Don't smile," said Bruce. He took the picture and then looked it over on the digital screen. "Good. Do you have your birth certificate on you?"

Garfield pulled out his wallet and carefully handed Bruce a tattered old piece of paper. "What do you need it for?" he asked.

"Nothing important," said Bruce. "I'll give it back to you Thursday after the fight."

* * *

The next day, Garfield, Robin, Cyborg, Starfire and Raven sat in the hallway, eating their lunch.

"I was thinking," said Raven, "like you know on Friday, when we exchange all our gifts and that…why don't we go see a movie afterwards?"

"An excellent idea," chirped Starfire. "Which one should we see?"

"How about The Aviator?" suggested Cyborg.

"Finding Neverland," exclaimed Starfire. "It truly looks like a wonderful, happy film."

"You realize those last four words just ruined your chances," Cyborg told her.

"What about the new Eastwood movie?" suggested Robin.

"I don't wanna see a cop movie before Christmas," argued Raven.

"It's not a cop movie," corrected Garfield. "I saw the trailer for it last night on TV. It's a boxing movie."

Those words caught the attention of the other three. Though the all knew that they were not so obsessed with the sport to the point where they slept with their cup and gloves on, it was always interesting to see how Hollywood would interpret the Sweet Science.

"What's it called?" asked Cyborg.

"Million Dollar Baby," answered Robin.

Cyborg stifled a laugh.

Raven raised an eyebrow.

Starfire blinked and then said, "Was that not the TV show about the bionic man?"

"That's the Six Million Dollar Man," Garfield corrected again. "Million Dollar Baby is supposed to be good."

"Fine," said Raven. "I'll go, but if Clint Eastwood shouts for Adrian at the end of the movie, I'm wanting a refund."

"It's about a female boxer," stated Robin.

Raven's eyes went up. "Never mind then."

"Victor Stone to the front office," boomed the PA system all over the school. "You have an urgent phone call."

Cyborg groaned. "Just when I was gonna eat my pudding," he grumbled.

"Victor," called Garfield in a high-pitched voice, "it's your mummy. I forgot to tell you tonight is bath night and I got a new washcloth to wash your bum."

The group laughed at Garfield's imitation.

Cyborg shook his head from side to side and gave a sarcastic laughter.

"You guys finish Christmas shopping?" Robin asked of the three.

Starfire nodded. "I should note that you will all be pleasantly surprised by what awaits you." She giggled just at the thought.

"Oh, Raven," said Robin. "I hope you don't mind me telling you early, but I got you one of those nice Precious Moments figurines that you love so much."

"If you did," she warned in her monotone voice, "that'll be the last thing you see until you wake up from your coma." She took a bite of her sandwich and added, "Plus, I'll castrate you in your sleep."

There was a stomping sound from the stairwell and a second later, the teens found that the sound came from the winter boots of an angry Victor "Cyborg" Stone.

"Let's go," he said. "Road trip."

"What?" frowned Garfield. "We can't leave school…lunch is done in, like, ten minutes."

"Cy, what's going on?" asked Robin.

"Revenge," growled Cyborg.

"How are we gonna leave school?" asked Raven.

"I got a plan," said Cyborg. "BB, shake!"

* * *

The secretary in the main office was busy reading the CNN website when a large black teen entered the office, looking like he was in danger.

"You gotta help me," he panted. He pointed outside to the group of three students, surrounding another student who was on the ground, convulsing.

"What's happened?" asked the secretary.

"He's diabetic," explained the teen. "He needs a refill of his medicine. We need to take him to the hospital."

"All right," said the secretary. "I'd call an ambulance but the snowstorm is making things very difficult. Will you be careful on the roads?"

"I will, ma'am," nodded the teen. He gave the name of his friends and exited quickly

* * *

The teens reached Cyborg's car while the rest of school were exiting theirs and heading inside the building. Luckily for the teens they wore the appropriate clothing as they entered the vehicle.

"Nice cover story," commented Robin as he closed the passenger door.

"Cyborg, please," Starfire pleaded as she buckled the seatbelt, "tell us what is the matter?"

"Mammoth," spat Cyborg as he sped out of the parking lot.

"Why am I in the bitch seat?" Garfield asked from the back. He was in the middle seat, between Raven and Starfire.

"You're the new guy," explained Raven. "Until someone else joins the club, you're the bitch."

"Whatever," he said in retort. "But who's Mammoth?"

"Sorta like my rival," explained Cyborg. "We've each one two fights against each other, we're about the same size but we hate each other."

"What did he do?" asked Robin.

"He shouted it over the phone," Cyborg answered with gritted teeth.

Garfield knitted his brow. "Shouted what?"

"It," came the reply through gritted teeth.

Robin turned around in his seat. "You know the word that you don't say to a guy like Cy."

Garfield thought about it for a second and then said, "Oh," so he wouldn't look ignorant. Then he really thought about and said, "_Oh_! Tha-that…bastard! I'm gonna kick his ass!"

Cyborg looked back at his friend and then chuckled. "Wow," he said. "I'm glad he didn't call you that, BB. No, man, this is my fight. I'm just gonna get back at him."

"How?" asked Starfire. "I must say, that if you resort to violence…the results could be disastrous."

Cyborg looked at her through the rearview mirror with a smile.

"Trust me. We should be at Walkerton in about twenty."

* * *

Walkerton High School had a much better student parking lot then JC High did simply because they had more money for the purpose.

The five teens stood in the hallway, near the office. In Starfire's hand was her makeup bag.

Cyborg tugged at his hooded sweatshirt and pulled it off, revealing his wifebeater and strong torso.

"What are you gonna do?" asked Garfield.

"Watch and learn, _mi amigo_," he replied. "Star, lipstick."

She retrieved her beauty item and carefully applied it to his lips so that he had a heavy layer.

"Dude, you're starting to look like a total chick," commented Garfield. "Minus all the…_features_."

"That's the point," said Cyborg as he pinched his nipples as hard as he could so that they would stand erect.

"Hm," said Robin, "I spy with my little eye…one straight guy pretending to be a queer guy."

Cyborg flashed a thin smile. "Oh, you stop," he spoke with a voice that gave him the stereotypical homosexual accent. "Now, if you'll excuse…I have work to do." He turned around and after giving himself a quick smack on the ass, he strutted into the office (AN: Yea, he struts).

The four other teens listened closely, hearing every word that came out of Cyborg's mouth.

"Hello," he said cheerfully to the secretary, "I need to see Ryan Mammot."

"Well," the secretary responded with a bit of puzzlement in her voice. Clearly she was looking Cyborg over and trying to wonder why a person would be wearing a just a wife beater in these frigid temperatures, "I think Mr. Mammot is in class right now. But I can leave a message and send it up to him."

"Oh, you're so nice," said Cyborg. "OK, can you tell him that Victor-the fella he met about a week ago? Tell him that Victor went to the clinic today, and I found out that I have, um, herpes simplex 10, and I think Ryan should go check himself out with his physician to make sure everything is fine before things start falling off on the man."

Garfield was on the verge of wetting his pants due to excess-and muffled-laughter.

The secretary also sounded equally stunned by this, but not in an amusing way like Garfield and the others had found it.

"Um…perhaps you better tell him yourself. Wait outside the office and I'll have him meet you there."

"Thank you," called Cyborg as he left the office. He shut the door behind him and quickly wiped the lipstick off his mouth while at the same time pulling his hooded sweatshirt back on.

A minute later a large white male, about the same size of Cyborg came down the stairs and his face dropped when he saw who was waiting for him. Ryan Mammot had lengthy hair and a stubble and wore clothes that looked too small on him.

"What a Mongoloid," said Garfield in disgust.

"The hell are you doing here?" Mammoth asked.

"Oh, I'm here to see you," said Cyborg replied confidently. "See, I gotta problem with you, Mammoth. Now, if you wanted to make a jab at me over the phone, that's cool, but to use that word, that word, on me…" Cyborg shook his head. "That ain't gonna stand."

He drew his fist back and struck Mammoth in the face. Mammoth was down and holding his jaw.

"God damn nigger," he cursed and drove his leg between Cyborg's, hitting his two best friends (AN: I'm not talking about Robin and BB).

Cyborg gave a short, sharp scream and staggered to the side.

Hell no! thought Garfield. It was an animal had been unleashed from his cage. With the speed and agility of a leopard, he darted towards the now standing Mammoth and delivered and uppercut that drove him off his feet and back on the ground.

He moved towards Cyborg and pulled his friend up.

"How're you?" he asked with a smile.

"Fine," replied Cyborg though he was now walking like a duck.

As they left, the secretary looked outside and saw the now-standing-again Mammoth, rubbing his chin.

"Did he hit you?" she asked.

"Yea," grunted Mammoth.

"Was it because you gave _him_ the herpes?"

* * *

"Damn, BB," commented Cyborg as the teens drove back to JC High, "you really let go on him. I mean…he's pretty tough and you just whaled on him."

Garfield shrugged and rubbed his sore knuckles. "I don't know what happened," he said softly. "I just…got mad."

"You released your…inner beast," analyzed Starfire.

"Remind me never to make you that mad," advised Robin.

* * *

As Garfield waited for the bus that would take him within close range of his apartment, Cyborg and Robin were giving him pointers for tomorrow's fight.

"Don't be afraid," said Robin.

"Don't show you're afraid if you are," said Cyborg.

"Eat a good meal, since you don't gotta make weight for this fight."

"Get plenty of sleep. We don't need you fallin' over just because you're tired."

"Visualize how you want the fight to go down."

Cyborg was about to say something but then stopped and whispered something in Robin's ear. While Robin's face was initially an insightful one it quickly turned to one of disgust.

"Oh, no," gasped Robin. "No…you wanna tell him that?"

"Oh," said Cyborg. "Well…I was kinda hopin' you would."

Garfield was a bit puzzled. "Why don't you both tell me," he suggested.

"OK," said Robin. "Uh…well, you have certain needs," began Robin.

"Human needs," added Cyborg.

"And…sometimes you gotta give into them," finished Robin.

"You don't want me to overeat?" guessed Garfield.

Robin and Cyborg cringed. "Uh…no."

"What is it?"

"Well," Robin tried again, "you're a guy…"

"Is that an observation or a lucky guess?" asked Garfield.

"Shut up," chuckled Cyborg.

"And…guys…we like girls and when we don't have a girl…we like to think about them and…" Robin was clearly having a hard time with this. "And sometimes when we think about them…we get…_happy_. Or excited..."

"Oh, for God's sake," spat Cyborg. "Don'tfreakin' masturbate!"

Passer byers gave the trio an odd look and then continued on.

"W-what?" asked Garfield.

"Don't…jerk off," said Robin. "It takes out your legs. We shoulda told you this sooner…but we didn't know if you were gonna fight or not and then…well know you know."

"Uh…" Garfield was speechless. "Like…how long should I hold out for next time?"

"Try a week," said Cyborg.

"I do five days," said Robin.

As the bus pulled up and the doors opened, Garfield felt that he had entered an episode of Seinfeld.

* * *

Garfield had finished fifty pushups in his room when his mother called him from the kitchen. He stepped out of his room and into the kitchen where his mother handed him the phone.

"It's Raven," she said.

Raven, he thought, how unexpected…again.

He took the phone and spoke into the receiver. "Hey, Raven."

"Hi, Garfield," she said. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Oh, yea," said Garfield. "I'm fighting some guy named Adonis or something."

"Cool," said Raven with sincerity. "Uh, Garfield what kinda movies do you like? Like, what genre?"

"Comedy mostly," he replied.

"OK…what did you get me for Christmas?"

Garfield chuckled. "I can't tell you."

"Can I get a hint?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"It's solid," replied Garfield. Before he could allow Raven to chew his head off for such a worthless clue, he hung up the phone. "Oh, I'm good," he said to himself.

* * *

For some reason Garfield was back at the club. After a heavy workout he was relaxing his muscles and letting the hot water of the shower just relax him. And while he knew it was a dream, he decided just to let it pass.

Maybe it's one of those where I'm naked but nobody notices, he thought.

"Hi there," a voice said behind him.

Garfield turned around and saw Raven standing in front of him, observing his naked body. He made an effort to cover himself from her gaze.

Raven wore a simple white towel around her body, covering her body up like a one-piece bathing suit.

"It's all right," she assured him as she stepped into the showers. She pushed him up against the wall and kissed him while her body and towel became soaked. "You let me look, and I'll let you look." Her hands moved towards Garfield's and moved them away from his gentiles.

Take it off, thought Garfield.

"I should get out of these wet clothes," said Raven as she moved towards the seam on her towel. "Or I'll catch a cold."

The towel fell to the floor and Garfield stared at her beautiful naked body. He pulled Raven towards her and gave her a passionate kiss. One hand held her head while the other explored her body.

It was then that he heard the sound. It started like the beeping of a pager and then it escalated, and before Garfield could do anything else he found himself waking up.

At 6AM, Garfield awoke to his alarm clock and in a rather angry mood. He looked at his alarm clock and pounded it with his fist, shutting off the alarm sequence. He pulled off the covers and saw that he carried an easily visible erection through his boxers. And while the normal option would be to…deal with it, Garfield remembered the advice his friends had given him.

"Oh, shit," he muttered. He got up to the bathroom and filled a cup up with cold water. Closing his eyes and wincing, trying to expect the discomfort to come, he pulled the waistband of his boxers forward and poured the water down on his crotch.

"Aahhh," he groaned. He let the waistband snap back against his skin. "Good job, Gar," he told himself. "Nothing like sex dreams about Raven to get you started in the day."

To Be Continued…

OK, there you have it, all the reviews really helped me get motivated enough to write the next chapter and hopefully more will inspire me even further.


	8. A Fight and A Movie

OK, glad to see all the updates. You've made me feel like this fic is sort of a sleeper hit. Anyway, I'll keep it short. This is probably the longest chapter. Read, review, and repeat.

Garfield arrived at school and headed towards the auditorium where he found Bruce and Alfred setting up the ring.

"Hey there," he greeted.

Bruce turned and smiled. "Good morning, Garfield. Tim and Victor are already in the changing room warming up and such." He moved towards the seats and picked up a white package. "This is for you," he said.

Garfield took the package and opened it. Inside was a pair of green trunks with black stripes on the sides and a black shirt that said, 'Teen Titan'.

"Holy…oh my god," he laughed. "Wh-when did you get this?"

"A few days ago," admitted Bruce. "It should fit you, I wasn't able to get your sizes until Monday."

"When did you get my sizes?" asked Garfield.

"I have my methods," answered Bruce.

* * *

Garfield entered the changing room to find Robin doing pushups on the floor and Cyborg skipping rope a few feet away.

"Yo, BB," greeted Cyborg. "I heard you got your trunks today. Put them on."

Garfield shucked his jeans and put the trunks on over his boxers (he had put his cup and jock strap on just before he left home).

The trunks swam under Garfield's kneecaps.

"A-are they supposed to be like this?"

"Yea," said Robin as he finished his set.

"If they aren't long, they're wrong," recited Cyborg.

"I can't wait to watch our fights afterwards," said Robin.

"What do you mean?" asked Garfield.

"Bruce and Alfred set up video cameras so we can watch our fights afterwards to look for mistakes and correct stuff. Plus we can show off all our good stuff."

"So, BB," said Cyborg as he continued to skip, "you get off last night?"

"No," said Garfield unashamedly. "But…I think I wanted to."

"Huh?"

"What do you mean?" asked Robin as he began to do sit-ups.

"Well…I was dreaming that I was in the gym showering…and then Raven came in and…well, let's just say I woke up before anything good really happened."

Cyborg stopped skipping rope and Robin halted his exercises.

"What'd she look like?" asked Cyborg. "Like, naked, I mean?"

Garfield shook his head. "I don't remember. But we started kissing and then I woke up cause of my damn alarm clock."

"You have sex dreams about Raven?" asked Robin. "Man, have you got it bad!"

"This from the guy who would come in his pants if he even saw Kori's bra," laughed Cyborg.

* * *

The auditorium filled up after lunch and Garfield already had is wraps and gloves donned and inspected by the referee. As he waited in the dressing room, Bruce spoke with the referee.

"My kid and Victor's were OK?" he asked

The referee nodded. "So is that Logan kid's. Who is he fighting anyway?"

"Kid named Adonis."

The ref stopped. "How many fights does that Logan kid have?"

"This is his first."

The ref scoffed. "Jesus, Bruce. Don't you know anything about this Adonis kid?"

"No."

"I've refereed two of his fights. Bruce, this kid has had 5 amateur bouts and won all by KO in the first round."

The color from Bruce's face fell. "The Walkerton coach never told me that."

"Probably because he wanted his star to win so bad."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus…can we cancel the fight?"

"If your kid wants that. I doubt Adonis will."

"I'll go talk to him."

* * *

"Five fights?" exclaimed Garfield.

"I know," said Bruce. "We were tricked…badly."

"So…what do we do?"

"You can either refuse to fight…or fight him."

"Don't do it, BB," advised Cyborg. "This guy is much more experienced than you."

"Yea," agreed Robin. "It'd be pointless to fight someone with that record."

"No," replied Garfield. "I'll do it." He looked at Bruce. "It's still on."

* * *

Garfield sat in the seats nearby the ring and watched Raven go up against a girl who was simply introduced as Jinx the Sorceress. Raven won her fight by unanimous decision.

Then Cyborg went up against Mammoth, resulting in him throwing in the towel during the third round after Mammoth suffered a bloody nose.

Though Garfield was watching the match, he wasn't really processing what was happening. He didn't know what they were throwing. All he knew was the end result.

Garfield wanted to puke. What the hell was he thinking by going up against this Adonis kid? It must have been a testosterone overload and now it was going to cost him his life. He was going to be carried out on a stretcher in front of the school.

"And the winner by a two to one decision," called the referee over the school's audio system in the auditorium, "Kori 'Starfire' Anders.

Garfield sighed. He hadn't even watched her match against some blonde named Kitten.

As Robin began his match against someone named Slade Wilson, Cyborg helped Garfield put his helmet and mouthpiece in.

Robin won by TKO at the beginning of the second round.

"Tim 'Robin' Drake," was all Garfield heard the referee say.

Garfield stepped up and moved into the ring, staying close to Bruce and Alfred, who had been working the corner.

"In this corner, from Titans Boxing Club, Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan," called the referee.

The auditorium had scattered applause.

_Pity applause,_ thought Garfield.

Adonis was introduced also and the applause was bigger for him. It was probably because he was good looking and had had sex with some of the popular girls at JC High.

_Eat me, pretty boy,_ thought Garfield.

They stepped forward and listened to the ref.

"I want a good clean fight. Three rounds, shake hands and come out boxing."

Garfield moved towards his corner and listened to what Bruce and Alfred had to say.

"Are you frightened?" asked Alfred.

"Yes," said Garfield. "But I'll be fine."

"No matter what happens, we're proud of you," said Bruce. "Go out there and do your best."

The bell rang and Garfield ran towards Adonis. Instantly he threw a hook that Adonis easily dodged. He drove his fist into Garfield's face, knocking him into the ropes.

Biting down on his mouthpiece, Garfield braced himself for the assault Adonis laid on his chest and stomach. He could see his fists moving in slow motion but Garfield was even slower to stop them. His body and energy was dying with every blow. Garfield did his best to fight back but it wasn't good enough. He could hear Adonis chuckle into his mouthpiece and mutter, "Is this the best you got, pussy?"

The bell rang and he wobbled back to his corner.

"Good job," said Bruce. "You're the only person he's fought to last the first round."

"Garfield," shouted Cyborg. "Release the beast. Release the beast. Release the beast."

People in the stands heard the chant and though they had no idea what it meant, they started to chant it as well.

"You hear that?" asked Alfred. "They got your back, not his. Now go in there and stand tall!"

Garfield stood up, this time, ready for anything.

Adonis shot out his left only to have Garfield bob away from it and drive his fist into Adonis' nose. Garfield didn't waste a moment and moved towards Adonis, striking his body and could feel his opponent's strength begin to drain.

"Like that?" grunted Garfield. "Ever have a pussy beat your ass?" Through his mouthpiece he gave an animal cry and let the fury in his fists push Adonis towards the ropes.

"That's what I'm talkin' about!" shouted Cyborg.

Garfield could feel his blows landing over Adonis' body. As soon as he bounced against the ropes, he knew that he had him. Garfield began to drive an uppercut into his chin and a left hook into his face. Adonis quickly slipped away and moved back into the center of the ring. Just as he was about to deliver a jab to Garfield's face, Garfield moved in and struck him with a powerful right jab.

Adonis' eyes went white, his arms dropped and a second later, so did his body onto the rest of the mat.

The auditorium filled with pandemonium as the crowd who had recently given him a mediocre round of applause now gave him one he truly felt worthy of.

As the referee began his count, Garfield could feel the blood trickling down his forehead. It seemed that Adonis was able to get one punch in. He wiped it with his glove, smearing it all over his forehead like Indian war paint.

The bell suddenly rang and Garfield looked to find that Adonis was starting to sit up.

The sound of microphone feedback filled the auditorium through the speakers but then came clear as crystal as the referee announced, "The winner by knockout in thirty-five seconds in the second round, Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan."

Almost as a reflex, Garfield raised his hands in victory. From out of nowhere, Robin, Cyborg, Raven and Starfire jumped the ropes and gathered around Garfield. Cyborg instantly picked Garfield up by his knees and held him above the ring for the auditorium to see. After a full minute of nonstop cheering the occupants began to chant "JC rules, JC rules, JC rules!"

The Walkerton team exited quickly and quietly, Adonis being held up by his trainer.

* * *

The three male boxers entered the changing room, still giving whoops and cheers for their victory, followed by Bruce. The coach would give them a speech and then let them shower and change.

"Great job, men," said Bruce in that cheery deep voice of his. "And Garfield, I don't know how the hell you did that, but if you keep with your training and get even better, I think you may want to build yourself a trophy shelf."

Robin and Cyborg gave shouts of approval and clapped their hands.

"Good work, again," said Bruce as he left.

Garfield pulled off his shirt-with much difficulty since it was drenched in his own sweat-and moved over in front of the mirror over the small sink. On his ribs he saw a small green mark that would be very sore whenever Garfield touched it. On the plus side though, Alfred was able to fix the cut on his forehead and he had stopped bleeding.

"Looks like you picked up a few souvenirs, BB," observed Cyborg.

"Yea," said Garfield to his reflection. He turned to Cyborg. "But so did Adonis."

"Oh, hell yea," agreed Cyborg. "I mean, I was watching that from the stands and in the first round he was just wailing on you. And the fact that you didn't back down or _fall_ down was even better."

"Gar's a masochist," chuckled Robin. "You couldn't see it but whenever Adonis was hitting him, his cock was getting just a little bit harder."

"Kinda like when you see me in the shower," retorted Garfield.

"Oh," crowed Cyborg. "Burn! Anyway, and then in the second round he just laid one hit on you and then you just released the beast. Your fists said 'Ooof' to his face."

"Yea," agreed Robin. "Bruce is right. If you sign up for the state tournament, you'll definitely kick some ass!"

There was a ring of a cell phone and Cyborg moved towards his jean pocket and pulled out the activated device.

"Hello?" His face instantly lit up. "Hey, Raven. Way to kick that bitch's ass! I think Jinx the sorceress needs to learn more boxing skills than magic spells and shit!" He paused and then said, "Yea, he's right here." He moved the cell away from his mouth and said, "It's Raven," followed by the international symbol for masturbation.

"Shut up," said Garfield as he moved to the cell phone. As soon as it was in his left hand, he sat down and began to take his shoes off with his feet. "Hello?"

"Hey, Garfield," said Raven. "You did so good out there."

Garfield could feel himself growing lighter than air. His shoes dropped to the floor and he now began to work on his socks.

"Oh, thanks," he said. "So, uh, are you looking forward to your present tomorrow?"

Raven giggled. "I might be," she said. "Are you looking forward to yours?"

Garfield smiled. "Always."

"OK, then. I'll see you later. Oh, could you hand the phone to Cy? I just want to make sure I got the meeting time right for tomorrow."

"Sure," said Garfield as he stood up to take off his shorts. He handed the phone to his friend and gave a sigh of comfort. It was going to feel good to get out of these sweat soaked clothes and let the hot blast of the shower cool him down. As he stood in only his jock strap, he turned and looked for his towel, soap and washcloth, Cyborg said, "Hey, BB."

Garfield turned, not ashamed of his current décor. After all they were all guys and they knew where the other's eyes were. However, Garfield's eyes soon came into contact with the camera part of Cyborg's cell phone. There was a quick beep and Robin and Cyborg began to laugh instantly.

"Oh, my god," moaned Garfield. "You didn't just…"

Cyborg gave a toothy grin. "I did. And I'm not the only one who's got a picture of this." He turned the cell phone around so that Garfield could see the nearly naked picture of him and then saw the name of the recipient: RAVEN.

"Oh…my…_GOD_!" screamed Garfield. "You sent that to _Raven_?"

Cyborg laughed. "Yea. But now when she ever has a sex dream about _you_, she'll know what you look like."

Garfield looked at the picture and couldn't help but be amused and embarrassed at the same time. There he was in his sweat-drenched body in nothing but his jock strap with a dumb look on his face.

"Hey, you're pretty sexy, Gar," joked Robin. "If I were Raven, I'd be over here in a flash and then lead you into that stall for some bow-chicki-bow wow."

Cyborg pushed some buttons on his phone. "OK, it's deleted. Now if Raven's gonna delete it is a whole other-"

Cyborg's cell began to ring again. Giving a smile, he handed it to Garfield, saying, "I think it's for you."

Garfield flipped open the cell phone.

"Hello?"

There was silence at the other end, until Raven's voice said, "I think you've got a hot body." Then the line went dead.

Garfield closed the cell phone. "She says I got a hot body."

Cyborg smiled. "Oh, the day just gets even better for the Teen Titans. But for now, time for the victory shower where we shall sing, 'We Are the Champions' by Queen."

"I don't know the words," said Robin.

"Me neither," said Garfield. "All I know is the refrain."

Cyborg sighed as he wrapped the towel round his waist. "All right then, we'll just sing that part then." He turned to Robin. "How the hell do you not know the words to that song?"

Robin shrugged. "I just don't. I mean, like, I may know that part that they did on _The Simpsons_."

Cyborg frowned. "What episode was that?"

"When Homer and his buddies trash the school and they blame it on the kids, they go in the locker room and sing in the shower and then Barney slips."

"See, back then the show was funny," said Garfield.

"Whatever," said Cyborg. "Can we get going?"

* * *

Bruce Wayne and Alfred had finished taking down the ring and loaded it into Alfred's trailer, which was on it's way back to the club with him.

Walking towards the changing room, Bruce was certain he could hear shouting coming from the area. Either they were yelling at each other or still celebrating.

Bruce pushed open the door and was greeted to a world of steam. And the only thing heard was the running of water and off tune singing.

"We are the champions, we are the champions. No time for losing, cause we are the champions," they sang.

"Dunh dunh dunh," said one to substitute for the missing instrumental.

"Of the world," they finished. And then when Bruce thought they were done, they started in with, "You got mud on your face, you big disgrace. Kickin' Walkerton's ass all over the place! WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

The rhythmic clapping soon filled the air with the sound of splashing also.

"WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

The sound of running water stopped and the occupants inside the shower cheered. Bruce stayed where he was, by the door, waiting for them to come out of their momentary bliss.

Sure enough, three naked teens exited the shower to find their coach standing not too far away.

"Holy shit," cried Robin as he covered his package with his hands.

"Shit," yelped Garfield as he hid only up to his waist behind the shower wall.

Cyborg just covered his manhood with his soaked washcloth.

"Girls, Bruce," shouted Robin. "Guys peek in the _GIRL'S _locker room. This is why you're not married!"

"I don't have a telescope on me, Tim, so I don't know what you're so nervous about," Bruce said coolly.

"Oh, ho," laughed Cyborg.

Robin bit his lip to conceal the fact that he wanted to laugh. Instead he let his hands go and put them on his hips.

"Then I've got nothing to hide," he declared. He moved towards his gym bag and got out his AXE deodorant and began to spray his armpits.

Bruce adjusted his glance so that all he could see was the ceiling and just up to the boy's necks. "What are your plans? I don't expect you go to back to class after what you've been through."

Robin shrugged. "Ah, we'll just cruise around town, hang out."

Bruce nodded. "Fine then. I'll see you three at the club at the usual time." Bruce left as quickly as he came.

Cyborg whistled and Garfield exited the shower, quickly heading over to his towel to dry his lower body off.

"Man, that dude has, like, no fear," observed Garfield. "I'm sorry, but I've never seen anyone act so calm and collected while people stand naked in front of them, unless it's a prison and…aw, screw it. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about."

"That's the benefit of having no shame," said Robin as he pulled on his black with red dice boxers. Just as he was about to pull on his jeans, he stopped. "Hey, how much would you guys pay me to streak through the school?"

"Ha," laughed Cyborg. "They'd suspend your ass before any of your pubes end up on the security cameras."

Robin waved a finger. "Not if I'm under the story that I'm punch drunk and I don't know what I was doing."

"Won't work, dude," said Garfield. "Bruce was here and I think that guy wouldn't even let the Pope get away with jaywalking."

* * *

"Shotgun," cried Robin as soon as Cyborg's car was in sight.

Garfield gave a sigh of defeat. "I never get shotgun," he said to himself.

"So," said Cy as he opened the driver's side door and got in. "Where do we go?"

"I don't know," said Robin. "I mean, I'm not hungry or anything so I don't wanna eat-unless you guys do, in which case, like, you know, just go ahead and I'll have water or something."

Garfield shook his head. "I'm not hungry," he said, though it was a half-lie. At the moment he was craving something to stuff down his throat but he always found it rude to eat in front of other people who weren't eating.

"Me neither," said Cy. "I mean, I don't just wanna cruise around for shits and giggles." As he let the car warm up, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in thought. After a few seconds, his face lit up and he smacked the steering wheel. "I got it," he cried as he pulled the car out of park and began to drive out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" asked Garfield.

"To gloat," said Cyborg, the toothy grin now more visible than ever.

"What?" asked Garfield with a scrunched face.

"Gloat," repeated Cyborg. "We're going to Walkerton."

* * *

Cyborg pulled up against the pavement that faced Walkerton High School.

"Guys," said Garfield. "I'm not so sure about this. We could get in a lot of trouble."

"Key word being 'could'," said Robin. "Relax." He turned to Cyborg and said, "How exactly are we going to gloat?"

Cyborg put the car in park and got out of the car. "Leave that to me," he said. He moved towards the trunk and opened it.

Wanting to know what he was up to, Robin and Garfield exited the car.

Cyborg slammed the trunk and in his hand was a megaphone.

"Oh, no," laughed Garfield. "You're not thinking…?"

"Hell yea," said Cyborg. He turned it on and shouted into it, "Good afternoon, you Walkerton wussies."

Garfield began to giggle and Robin just stood there and smiled. "As you may be aware, us Jump City High students opened of can of whoop-ass on your pansy boxing team."

By this point, several students had moved the blinds away from the windows and began to gaze outside the window.

"And what's even worse," continued Cyborg, "is that your 'star boxer' Adonis got his ass beat in the second round by a dude who's been boxing less than two months. I mean, Adonis just sucked huge monkey in that round."

At this point, students were shouting at him, but Cyborg didn't care. "Look, we just came by to show off our superiority over you pathetic pieces of crap. Oh, and Mammoth…I hope your herpes gets better." With that, he handed the megaphone to Robin.

"Uh, hey, listen up," cried Robin through the megaphone. "You tell that Slade Wilson that if he's gonna try and beat me, he may need to put some hair on his balls!"

The megaphone was now in Garfield's hand. He was quite nervous at this point. He had no idea what to say and he didn't want to say anything that would make him and the others look like idiots.

"Listen up," he shouted into the megaphone. "I just wanna ask Adonis one thing: What happened? I tapped you a couple times and you fall over? What gives? I tap some of your mom all the time and she can take it."

Garfield shut off the megaphone. "Was that good?"

Robin and Cyborg nodded. Robin then looked towards the student parking lot and shouted, "Oh, shit."

It looked like a large black truck was heading their way. Inside the truck were Mammoth, Slade and Adonis.

The boys ran inside Cyborg's car and he instantly took off.

"I think we really pissed them off, you guys," said Garfield as he looked through the rear window.

"We?" asked Cyborg. "You were the ones who made cracks about his mom."

"Yea," agreed Robin. "You stepped over the line."

Garfield sighed and looked out the window again. The truck was still on their tail.

"I'm such an asshole," he said to the window.

"Oh, no you're not," disagreed Cyborg. "_I'm _the asshole. Robin's the smart-ass and you're…man, what _are _you?"

"Gar's the short guy," said Robin as he looked at the side mirror. "He's the short guy who goes crazy if you piss him off too much."

"Like Joe Pesci?" asked Cyborg.

"Exactly like Joe Pesci," exclaimed Robin.

Cyborg made a sharp right turn, hurling the occupants to the left since they got in the car in such a hurry they didn't bother to put on their seatbelts.

About half a mile away from them were the railroad tracks and Cyborg noticed that the arms were starting to go down.

"Hang on," he cried and he slammed his foot down on the gas and allowed the car to accelerate.

"Cy, cut it out," said Robin. He was holding onto the sides of his seat.

"Relax, we can make it," assured Cyborg.

"Dude," exclaimed Garfield. "We aren't going to make it."

"Yes," reassured Cyborg. "We will."

With amazing reflexes, Cyborg navigated his car between the protective arms that blocked access to the tracks and crossed them seconds before the train could hit them.

Garfield began gasping like he was having an asthma attack.

"Holy crap," he panted. "Never ever do that again."

"That was amazing," said Robin as the color went back into his face. "How many times have you done that?"

Cyborg smiled. "Actually, that was my first attempt."

* * *

Arriving at the club, a few hours after driving just for shits and giggles and getting a well needed lunch, the three boys arrived at the club to find Bruce standing at the desk with Raven and Starfire already waiting for them.

"Guys," he announced, "I'm really pleased with today's results. You've exceeded my expectations and done _Titans Boxing Club_ proud. Therefore, I'm making today a pro day."

"Yes," said Cyborg and Raven together.

"What's a pro day?" asked Garfield as they headed towards the changing room.

Robin smiled. "Well since we're amateurs, we fight with shirts on because that's just how it is. But the pros fight without shirts. So on a pro day, we're allowed to practice without our shits. Gives the ladies a show."

Garfield laughed. "Cyborg has already given Raven a show and I was the main event."

"So now this is an opportunity to tease her," said Cyborg. "You know, like bikini babes do to guys at the beach when they bend over and shit."

"We get to be sluts then," summarized Garfield.

"Not sluts, teases," corrected Robin. "Sluts will do anyone. But a tease targets a certain person."

"Sluts will target anything that moves and has a human penis," added Cyborg.

* * *

Garfield did his usual workout that day. Skipping rope, a half hour on the speed-bag, forty-five minutes on the heavy bag and then a fifteen-minute spar with Robin, though both of them pulled their punches. The girls stopped their workout while the two shirtless males sparred. When it was over, Garfield exited the ring and took a sip of his Gatorade. As he put the drink down he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

"Jesus," he hissed.

"Are you all right?" asked Raven from behind.

Garfield turned around and rotated his shoulder. "My shoulder," he explained. "I got this…feeling in it."

"What kind?" Raven asked monotonously. "Stabbing, shooting, throbbing, burning, stinging, singeing, dull, sharp?"

"Kinda like stabbing and sharp," explained Garfield.

Raven pointed to a nearby chair. "Bring that here."

Garfield pulled the chair.

"Sit down."

Once again, Garfield did as he was told. Raven got behind him and put her hands on the blades of his shoulders.

Though he wanted to gasp, Garfield held it in. Her hands were like ice, which was surprising, considering it was usually very warm in the club.

"Just relax," she instructed as she began to massage him. "Your muscles are very tense," she told him. "Did you shower after your fight?"

"Yea," Garfield said softly. "Yea, I did but…must not have gotten everything."

"Perhaps if you didn't spend all of your time singing, you wouldn't be so tense," advised Raven, as her hands kept moving against Garfield's sore body. "Kori and I could hear you three from the other side. Were you singing in the shower?"

Garfield's cheeks turned red. "Uh…yea," he chuckled. Then something popped back into his head. "You, uh, wouldn't happen to have that picture still on your cell phone would you?"

Raven smirked. "Well…if I ever have to blackmail you one day or if I'm tired of looking at nearly naked men in the magazines…I'll always have that picture."

"Well, since you got one of me…can I get one of you?" teased Garfield.

Raven smirked. "Maybe, just a regular picture or are we talking…?"

"I'm talking nearly naked like me," stated Garfield softly. He spoke softly because of the comfort Raven was giving his sore body. "Like, you can cover up your boobs but I wanna see a little bit of them."

"No nipples?" she asked.

Garfield shrugged. "That's up to you, Raven. I mean, they're your nipples."

Raven laughed. "You know, you're the only person to get me to genuinely laugh, that isn't on TV." She then began to swat against his back with the side of her hands. "How does this feel?" she asked.

"Gooooooddddd," Garfield replied with a vibrated voice. And just when he thought it couldn't get any better, Raven stopped.

"Garfield," called Bruce from the door of his upstairs office, "I need to see you."

* * *

Garfield stood shirtless in front of Bruce's desk while Bruce sat in the chair, looking down at the gym. He shut the blinds and turned to Garfield.

"Sorry about coming up here like this," apologized Garfield. He felt rather uncomfortable being shirtless in front of Bruce. "I thought you wanted to see me immediately."

"It's all right," said Bruce.

"Good."

"Once again," said Bruce, "I have to congratulate you on your victory."

Garfield smiled and looked down at his feet, feeling a tad embarrassed over the praise he was getting.

"Thanks," he said, "but you know…the others did good too. We all won."

Bruce nodded. "I know, but you were literally the underdog, the new kid. You were going to prove yourself in this match and you did. You kicked his ass"

Garfield smiled because he always found it amusing when adults talked like teenagers.

Bruce reached into a drawer and pulled out a small blue book, handing it to Garfield.

Upon opening, Garfield found his birth certificate he had given Bruce the previous day, a photocopy of it in the book as well as the picture of him from yesterday.

"It's your book," explained Bruce. "Keeps track of your fights, wins and losses." He then pulled out a videocassette. "And this is your fight," added Bruce, "Alfred did all the special editing so you can watch it from four angles."

Still smiling, Garfield said, "Thank you so much."

"So, if I may ask a question…what made you come back and beat him?"

Garfield pulled out a chair and sat down. "It was…it was them," he replied pointed to the blinded window. "It was them chanting for me."

Bruce nodded. "They good people to have in your corner."

"Yes they are."

"I also see that…Tim and Victor have somewhat adopted you," noted Bruce.

"Yea," chuckled Garfield. "I'm kinda like their younger brother."

"And Raven is the sister who gives you massages?"

"Hey," said Garfield with a smile, "she's not my sister by blood, so even though it sounds dirty, it looks clean."

* * *

After Cyborg dropped Garfield off at his house and began to drive towards Tim's house, his friend turned towards the driver.

"Cy, I got a problem," said Robin. "I didn't get Gar anything for Christmas yet."

"Damn it," hissed Cyborg. "You aren't taking my gift and making it yours. It took me _two hours _to find that damn book, man. Two hours! And for a book!"

"Should I get him a book?"

"Ask him," said Cyborg.

"I can't. Then it'll look like I'm just waiting until the last minute to get him something."

"What do you mean it'll look like that? That is what you've done. You're at the eleventh hour, buddy."

"Do you got any ideas?"

Cyborg sighed. "Get him something he'll like. I hear hookers have Christmas discounts."

* * *

Garfield entered his apartment to find his mother there, sitting at the table. A distraught look on her face.

The son was too excited to notice.

"Mom," he said. "I won! I beat this guy who always won by KO. I beat his ass in the second round and I got it all on tape. We gotta…mom, what's wrong?"

She stood up. "The doctor called Garfield…the test results came back negative."

Garfield dropped his belongings and instantly ran to his mother to hug her.

"Mom," he said, "it's OK. You'll get through this. OK, no matter what obstacle comes up…"

"It's my fault," Sally sobbed. "I'm sorry to do this to you."

"No, no, mom," said Garfield sternly, while still hugging her. "This is no one's fault. But…we'll get through this OK. And you'll be happy again…I promise."

She sniffed and then looked into her son's eyes. "You won your fight?"

Garfield gave a sad smile. "Oh, yea…this guy was actually an amateur fighter and I beat his ass."

Sally smiled. "Let's watch it with dinner. You can give me commentary when we watch it again."

* * *

Tim Drake stood in his room shirtless once again; striking the speed bag that had been mounted on the wall ever since he started living with Bruce. It was a welcoming present and Tim used it instantly. And he had every night or whenever he needed to clear his mind. He had gotten Star's gift, Raven's gift and Cyborg's but nothing for Garfield yet.

_Think_, thought Tim as the sound of the speed bag filled the air. _Gar's a rookie in boxing…likes books…damn, this is hard There must be something he doesn't have that he would want…that's it._

Tim gave the bag a final pound and then knew what to give Garfield.

* * *

On Friday, Garfield decided to stay home and just loaf around, watching TV while his mom was at work. He actually enjoyed being alone because now he had time to wrap his friend's gifts.

Though he didn't know if Cyborg would like the idea of getting a book for Christmas since he didn't like the idea of getting a book for him, but Garfield was optimistic that he would like this one's subject matter.

Robin he got a book as well and Garfield was upset that he hadn't noticed this until _after _he decided to get the book for him, but the book-which he had bought at a used bookstore-was autographed by the author. And while Garfield knew that Robin would never know the difference, he promised himself that he would not give into greed.

Raven, he had gotten her a book as well but he knew that this would be a book she would like. She had that love for the occult and supernatural, so this would definitely please her.

Last but certainly not least was Starfire's gift. He wrapped it carefully and then set it in his bedroom along with the other presents.

* * *

Tim and Victor approached the front door to Garfield's apartment building when they noticed one thing.

"It's locked," observed Victor as he tried to pull the door open.

"Duh," said Tim. "He's gotta let us in." Tim was looking at the intercom panel and looking for his friend's last name. "Logan…Logan…ah, here we are. Room 715."

Tim pushed the call button and then waited a few seconds.

"Hello?" asked a mechanical female voice.

"Hello," called Tim. "Is Garfield there?"

"Come on up," called the voice. There was a buzz and Victor now found himself able to pull open the door.

After taking the elevator to the seventh floor, they made their way to apartment 715.

Tim knocked on the door. He heard footsteps approach from the other side. The door opened and there stood Sally Logan.

"You must be Garfield's friends," she said. "Please come in. I'm Garfield's mother, Sally."

Victor and Tim entered the apartment and took off their shoes.

"I'm Tim Drake," introduced Tim.

"Victor Stone."

Sally smiled. "It's so nice to finally put a face to the name. He always talks about you two and those girls."

Tim smiled. "Oh, yea…we're his second family."

"Where's Gar?" asked Victor.

"Oh, Garfield's out for the moment."

Tim frowned. He knew that Gar hadn't made any other plans for the evening.

"But…he's supposed to be with us tonight."

Sally chuckled. "Oh, I know. I mean he went to the corner store to get some milk. We're out."

"Ah," said Tim. He noticed how Sally was dressed. "Are you going out somewhere?"

Sally nodded. "I'm meeting some friends from the office and I was almost about to leave when you came buzzing." She moved towards her shoes. "You can watch TV while you wait for Garfield."

"Where's the bathroom?" asked Victor.

Sally pointed as she opened the door. "Down the hall, first door on the left. You boys have fun tonight."

"Thank you," said Tim as she left.

"I'm gonna be a while," Victor said as he headed down the hallway.

"OK, that's disgusting," called Tim. He sat down on one of the couches facing the TV but decided against turning it on. Instead he moved towards a table and saw a large scrapbook. He picked it up and opened it towards the middle. There was what looked like a medical report. From the name at the top, it showed that it was a psychiatrist's office. Tim began to read what was on the letter, knowing that he probably shouldn't but the temptation was too great.

'Garfield is terribly shy for a boy his age. The lack of a father figure may play into this since Garfield has never met nor spoken with his father since the day of his birth. And while Garfield may be shy, his memory is the most amazing I have seen from a fourteen year old. Also upon further testing I have found that his IQ is well above and beyond that of any normal child his age. His abilities to copy an action after seeing it once are impressive and will probably be very useful to him in the future.'

_That's how he does it, _thought Tim. _He has this god-given ability to do whatever he sees and…he's got a genius IQ? Is that what this guy is saying?_

Not wanting to read anymore of the report, Tim flipped through the pages until he came to a large newspaper clipping with a color picture. It was Garfield again, but two girls his age were beside him, one on each side. The girls held the front of their bodies close to Garfield and held guns behind their backs.

'_CHICAGO SCORES!_' the paper declared.

_Chicago?_ thought Tim. _As in the musical?_ Tim went on to read that Garfield had the male lead role in the play as lawyer Billy Flynn. The paper also praised his acting abilities as well as his singing, calling it a mix of Sinatra's cool with Cary Grant's charm.

_Who the hell is Cary Grant?_ Tim wondered. _So, Gar does musical theatre? Who knew that with that raspy voice of his he could sing?_

"Find everything OK?" asked a voice behind Tim.

He jumped and found Garfield at the door of the apartment.

"Sorry," apologized Tim. "I didn't mean to snoop around but…"

There was the sound of a toilet flushing and then Victor came out to say, "Who's snooping?"

"I was," said Tim.

"So are you gonna make fun of me too?" asked Garfield with a hurt face. "Are you gonna call me a fag and all that too?" His eyes began to water but he really didn't care.

"I go to the bathroom for two minutes and I'm out of the loop," Victor said to himself. "What the heck is going on?"

"Gar, I didn't mean to look through that."

"Whatever, Tim," grumbled Garfield as he put the milk in the fridge. "If you wanna call names, go right ahead. I've been called names most of my life but you'll be the first friend to call me one."

"Still out of the loop," said Victor.

"Garfield does musical theatre," explained Tim.

"Oh, really?" asked Victor.

"Yes," spat Garfield. "I do musical theatre. I sing, dance and recite a bunch of shit you don't care about! So go ahead, call me faggot, cock-sucker, fairy and anything else you can think of!"

"Gar," cried Tim. "I wasn't going to call you that!"

"Me neither," said Victor. "So what…you're an actor.

"Yea," added Tim. "So, you dance and you sing? Last time I checked…I showered with you and Vic after the fight yesterday and…you didn't seem to be aroused."

Garfield looked sad and upset with himself. He turned to the counter and began to pound it with his fist. When he was finished he turned to his friends.

"I-I'm sorry about…you know…that."

Tim nodded. "S'OK."

"Uh…can you guys give me a hand with your presents?"

"Sure," replied Victor. "So…what'd you get Raven?"

"Stephen King book," he answered. "I-I'm also gonna ask her out tonight. Like, if she wants to do something over the break." Garfield sniffed the air around him. "Do I smell nice?"

* * *

With the presents in Tim's trunk, they now drove to where Raven and Kori had agreed to meet.

"There they are," pointed Garfield from the back seat.

"Yea," agreed Tim as he honked the horn as he entered the parking lot to the theater.

Tim parked right next to Raven's car. The boys got out and met the girls.

"Ready to go?" asked Tim.

* * *

In the Cineplex, Raven groaned. "Dammit, I left my money back in the car."

"Relax, Rae," consoled Garfield. "I'll cover you for your ticket."

"OK," she said slowly. "Uh…I gotta use the bathroom." She waited for Kori to say something and then nudged her.

"Oh, uh, I must use the facilities as well," said Kori.

* * *

"I think I have a crush on Garfield," Raven said as soon as they were in the bathroom.

Kori gasped. "Raven…I thought that was forbidden for you."

"I know," she replied. "If I go and admit it…things are gonna explode."

* * *

Two and a half hours later, the teens exited the Cineplex, stunned. Kori was wiping away from tears while Tim, Garfield and Victor seemed more stunned than anything else.

"I…I can't believe that," said Victor. "I mean…I _never_ expected that."

"Me neither," said Tim. "But that was one of the best movies I've ever seen."

"Yea," agreed Garfield. "If that doesn't get an Oscar nomination…then I'm gonna go nuts."

"Indeed," sniffed Kori.

"I liked it," said Raven. "It was dark…"

"Can we open presents now?" asked Tim.

"OK," said Raven. "Let's all open one present from the same person at a time."

Kori had gotten everyone a scented candle, Raven adored her black one.

Raven got Victor a Grand Theft Auto game for his gaming console, the book _The Zen of Muhammad Ali_ for Kori, the movie _Rocky_ for Tim and the novel _Angels and Demons_ for Garfield.

Victor got Kori a day calendar that had pictures of cats and other cute animals over it, an Evanesence for Raven, a _Zits_ day calendar for Robin and the book _The Gloves: A Boxing Chronicle _for Garfield.

"You better finish that," he warned his small friend. "It took me two hours to find that book. _Two hours!_"

Garfield went next. For Raven, the Stephen King novel _It_, which she gasped at.

"I…I've looked _all over _for this book. How'd you find it?"

Garfield shrugged. "Magic?"

For Kori, a book by the daughter of Muhammad Ali. For Victor, the book _The 16th Round_ by Rubin 'Hurricane' Carter.

For Tim, the book _The Sweet Science_.

"You see what he's trying to do?" joked Victor. "He's trying to get us to start reading so that when he talks about books we can talk back."

Tim's presents were last. For Kori, a pink diary with her name on it, for Raven the movie _The Exorcist,_ for Victor, a racing game for his gaming console.

A lump formed in Tim's throat as Garfield tore at the wrapping paper to his last present.

"Oh, god," gasped Garfield. He pulled out what was in the package.

"Isn't that…?" asked Victor.

"Yep," answered Tim with a small grin.

In Garfield's hands was a speed bag. The same speed bag that had been in Tim's own room.

Garfield began to laugh. Laugh, because he didn't know what else to do.

"Thanks," said Garfield.

"I wish to initiate a group hug," declared Kori.

Victor groaned. "Oh…do we have to?"

Raven pulled him by the back of his neck into a circle with the rest of them as they group hugged.

"Well, we should go," said Raven.

"Uh, Raven, hold up," called Garfield as the other boys held Kori back.

"What is it?" she asked.

Garfield could feel his whole body go hot, even in the cold December weather.

"Look…I'm no good at these sorta things so…do wanna go out one day?"  
Raven gave an inner gasp. "Like a…date?"

"Yea," Garfield squeaked.

Raven gave a sad smile. "Oh, Gar…Gar, I would love to but…I can't."

"Why not?" asked Garfield.

"I have a boyfriend," answered Raven.

"Oh, damn," said Victor, who had overheard.

* * *

"Boyfriend," Garfield repeated from the passenger seat. They had dropped Victor off earlier.

"That sucks," consoled Tim. "That really sucks."

"That sucks with teeth," added Garfield. "Yea, she tells me his name is Gavin Goth? What kind of last name is Goth?"

"His I guess," stated Robin. As they neared his apartment, Tim slowed down.

"You know…it took me a while to rack up the nerve to give you that bag," said Tim. "I hope you like it and use it."

"Oh, I will," said Garfield.

"So, uh, what are you doing over the holidays?"

"Nothing much?"

"What about Christmas day? Going to see family?"

Garfield shook his head. "No."

"Oh."

"Kinda like every year," said Garfield as Tim put the car in park.

"Hey, uh, would you and your mom like to come to our place on Christmas day?" asked Tim.

Garfield froze. "You mean that?"

"Yea, Bruce wouldn't mind. Hell, it's just me, Dick and Bruce all year. Alfred goes to England tomorrow to see his family."

"That won't be a problem?"

"No, come on. Please come, Gar."

Garfield gave a content sigh. "All right, I'll talk to her. Chances are she'll say yes but if she doesn't, Merry Christmas, Tim."

Tim pulled Garfield into a hug. It wasn't a hug that people in love shared. It was more a brotherly hug.

* * *

When Garfield's mother came home that night, he told her the plan that Tim had and she agreed after some consideration. Garfield instantly called Tim and told him the good news.

"Tell him I'll bring the desserts," called Garfield's mom.

Garfield went to sleep that night, after setting up his speed bag, which would be a constant reminder of his eternal friendship with everyone at Titans Boxing Club and Tim Drake.

* * *

Garfield knew he wasn't in his bed when he woke up. As he tried to bring his hands to his head to rub his eyes, he found that his hands were chained to the floor. His legs remained free but for some reason he was unable to move them.

"What the hell?" he asked. He tried pulling against the restraints, grunting all the way but he couldn't budge them.

"Are you trying to get away so quickly?" asked a voice.

Garfield turned towards it. "Who's there," he asked. It was so dark that he couldn't even see anything except for his body, which was given a small amount of light.

He could hear footsteps approach and before he knew it, the figure stood over him, their face unseen, holding a knife in the left hand.

Garfield withered against the restraints to no avail while the kidnapper grabbed him by the wife beater and cut his shirt open. Suddenly the room became more illuminated and Garfield could now easily identify the attacker as Raven.

"Raven?" asked Garfield as she got down to his level to move his tattered shirt away. "What are you doing?"

She put her mouth and his nipple and began to move her tongue over it. Garfield opened his mouth to moan and as soon as he did, Raven forced a ball gag into his mouth, securing the straps behind his head.

"I need you to be quiet," she explained as she moved towards his pajama pants. She took them by the waistline and pulled them down, leaving Garfield in only his boxers.  
Raven threw the pajama pants aside and then moved back towards Garfield's boxers. She rubbed her palm over his crotch repeatedly, earning a submissive moan from Garfield.

"You have a hot body," she repeated as she pulled down his boxers, leaving him naked. She threw them aside as well.

Garfield was clearly aroused by these actions. His erection was clearly visible and he was hoping Raven would pay it some attention.

"Well, I should get going then," she said. But instead of leaving, like Garfield thought she striped naked and after applying a chain around Garfield's neck, she mounted him and began to move up and down.

Garfield felt pure ecstasy flowing through his body and through his manhood. He felt his orgasm coming near.

Raven moaned and kept telling Garfield how she loved him.

Garfield woke up feeling painfully aroused. Realizing that it was another damn dream, he pulled his cover away to find the front of his boxers soaked.

"Jesus," he said disgustingly. "I have got to get a girlfriend…or get my balls under control." He then thought about the dream and wondered if Raven was really into bondage.

To Be Continued...

R&R&R...always do the last R. Next chapter will be up soon. Won't be as big as this but it will be the most powerful chapter yet.


	9. Secrets Revealed

Ok, here it is. This is going to be (hopefully) the big bombshell chapter. Read it and if you're able to...review. Did you know just 5 reviews can feed a starving child in...uh...my house? No...that's just bad on my part.

Chapter Nine: Secrets Revealed

Garfield spent the next couple of days alone, not that he enjoyed it since he would have rather been doing something with Tim or Victor instead of flipping through magazines or flipping through all the old TV shows on in the morning. He rarely saw his mother because she was working on a big case so that left Garfield alone to his own devices.

One Tuesday while he was out and about through town on his feet, he sat in a café with a small dish of penne with meat sauce when a familiar cold hand was placed on his shoulder. Garfield turned around and found none other but, "Raven."

She wore a blue jacket with a hood attached to it. In her hands was a wrapped package.

"Can I join you?" she asked.

Garfield nodded. "So…what brings you here?"

"I was looking for you, actually."

"Oh," said Garfield, feeling flattered. He gestured towards the presents. "Are those for Gavin?"

Raven's eyes moved towards the package. "Uh…actually…they're for you."

Garfield almost chocked on his noodles. "For me?" he coughed. "But…you already gave me-"

"I know but…I feel bad about Friday. I mean, I was giving you signs, the wrong signs. The half naked picture of you, the massage, telling you that you got a hot body…I was flirting with you and without knowing it, setting you up for heartbreak. God, what else did I do that was stupid of me?"

"Tying me up with chains," added Garfield, not remembering that that was a dream.

"What?" asked Raven.

Garfield had a short while to redeem himself. "Uh, I mean, this is tying you up with emotional pain, I see."

Raven sighed. "Yea…Garfield…you're a good friend and…I really like the friendship we have."

"So do I," agreed Garfield. "But…well to be blunt, why were you being such a tease."

Raven sighed. "Have you ever met my boyfriend Gavin?"

Garfield shook his head.

"Well, we've been going out since June…and well since then things have been steady but now…he says he wants to take things to the next level."

"Oh, you mean sex," summarized Garfield.

Raven's eyes went wide. She leaned forward on the table and whispered, "Do you mind?"

Garfield shrugged. "Sort of. I mean, I've heard sex is fun and that it feels good but I just don't approve of underage sex."

Raven laughed and gave a smile. "Only you, Garfield, can bring light on a bad situation."

Stuffing his face again Garfield asked, "What do you mean?"

Raven sighed. "If I tell you this…will you _promise_ not to tell anyone?"

Garfield nodded.

"OK," began Raven. "Gavin called me Saturday night and said that he had to give me my present early. So I head over there and his house is all dark."

"Creepy," stated Garfield.

"I know," said Raven. "So I go to the door and there's a note that says, 'Raven, I had to leave with my parents. I left you a key in the mailbox. Your present is in my room' and it was signed by Gavin. So I go up the stairs, into his room and his whole room is lit up with candles."

"Whoa," said Garfield after sipping his 7-Up, "this is really creepy."

"It gets worse," said Raven. "So, there are candles all over. And right on the bed is Gavin, wearing a bear of black briefs that looked like a Speedo."

Garfield almost spat out his soda. "What was the gift?"

"He wanted to have sex," explained Raven. He put on a Speedo, thinking that seeing him like that…that I would want to do it with him."

"I take it you didn't," said Garfield, hoping to God that the answer would be no.

"No," said Raven. "I was a bit upset. He said that he had been waiting too long…that we had to have sex then and there because there were no other ways for us to show our affection for each other."

"And you disagree with that philosophy," guessed Garfield. "You're saving it until marriage?"

Raven nodded. "I-I know that sounds dumb to you but…I'm saving it for the one I love. I want the person I marry to be my best friend."

"I don't think that's dumb," stated Garfield. "Why would I think that?"

"Sorry," said Raven. "I mean…you're a guy and most guys…"

"We're horny little bastards," finished Garfield. "I know, I know. So does everybody else. But…I'm saving it for the right person also. I don't want to lose it in the back of some alley."

"Wow," chuckled Raven. "You're the first guy I've heard say that. So…does this mean that you big strong men have feelings?"

Garfield's face dropped. "No," he said monotonously, "we have no feelings. We experience neither hate…nor love."

Raven laughed. "Oh my god. That's so funny."

Garfield shrugged. "Well…I mean we do have feelings…but you'll never get us to admit it."

Raven smiled. "That's true. It's hard as hell to get Gavin to smile." She sighed and then looked at the wrapped package. "Have you noticed how boxing has changed you, Garfield?"

Gar shook his head. "No, I don't know what you mean."

Raven explained. "Well, when you first came into the club, I remember seeing you walk in. I was sparing with Kori and then you spoke to Alfred and went up to see Bruce."

"Yea," recalled Garfield. "I remember that."

"Well…I remember how _shy_ you were. You looked frightened almost to speak to us, like we were aliens or…something else."

Garfield smiled. "Yea, I…I was pretty nervous. I'm always nervous about meeting new people. The one guy who really worried me was Tim cause he was just so…in defiance of Bruce."

Raven nodded. "Yea, he usually is. But ever since you came to the club, he seems more…happy?"

Garfield raised an eyebrow. "And you think _I _have something to do with that?"

"Yes, I do," said Raven. "You see, Tim is a guy who will stick up for anybody who's being oppressed. I think that when he saw you and met you he felt that he could keep you from feeling oppressed."

"I'm not feeling oppressed," stated Garfield. "I was more lonely than oppressed."

"Well, there you go," said Raven. "Tim wants to keep you from feeling lonely. That's probably why he invited you to his house for Christmas."

"Yea, I guess," said Garfield. "But…wait, how do you know about that?"

"I spoke with him last night on MSN messenger," she explained. "He sounded really excited about it."

"Really?"

"Yea," said Raven. "He thinks really highly of you. Says you're the kindest, funniest and yet mysterious person he's ever met."

Garfield could feel that flattery going through his body.

"Well, I feel the same way about Tim," stated Garfield. "I mean, he's really the first cool person to take a liking to me."

"He loves you, you know," said Raven calmly, almost like telling a person their favorite show was on.

Garfield almost chocked on his pasta. "Raven, don't say that."

She sighed. "Why do boys always assume that if one guy cares about another they think he's gay?"

"I don't make the rules on that."

"He loves you like a brother," said Raven. "How about that, is that better?"

Garfield nodded. "Yea…Tim is kinda like the older brother I never had. And he's the first athletic person to ever have an intelligent conversation with me.

Anywhere else, the most any athlete ever spoke to me was when they wanted to know how to spell something or for how much I would do their homework."

"Really?" asked Raven.

"Oh, yea," said Garfield. "I got it bad at my old school. The gym coaches had us shower after every class and…"

"Ah," Raven said simply. "I'm guessing that everyday was a contest then?"

Garfield bit his lip and nodded. "I mean, other people got it bad but…I got it really bad. You know Josh Richet?"

"The really ugly kid who makes sexist jokes simply because no girl will pay him any mind?" asked Raven. "Yea."

"He went to school with me then but he got transferred for trying to fight his English teacher. Luckily for him she didn't hurt him too bad. Anyway, he was always a prick to me. But I got back at him."

"So I heard," said Raven. "But you shouldn't dwell on the past. Screw Richet and all those other jerks that were jealous over you massive penis," as she said this she had a smile on her face because Garfield was laughing too much. "And-ha ha-and focus on the bond you share with Tim and Victor."

"Believe me, Raven," said Garfield, "I do. It was a very funny story when I first had to shower with them."

"No need to tell me," said Raven. "I think I get the idea. You were nervous and then the guys gave you some pep talk about it not being the size of the wand but the magic you make with it or something."

"Something like that." He looked at the package Raven had brought in with her. "So…can I open that now?"

She looked down at it. "Well, I think you've been waiting long enough. Open it."

Garfield took the package and looked it over. "What is it?" he wondered. He tapped it and remarked, "It's solid so it must be…"

He tore at the wrapping paper and looked at the front of the movie cover.

"Ghostbusters," he said with a happy tone. He then noticed that the package was rather thick so he moved Ghostbusters aside to find the cover to another movie. "Lost in Translation," he remarked. "Oh, yea. This is that movie that everyone said Bill Murray should have won the Oscar for."

"You did say you liked comedy movies," reminded Raven.

Garfield smiled. "So I did."

Raven looked at the clock on the wall and said, "Well, I should be going. Look, Gar, I'm really sorry again about how I acted earlier."

"Maybe it was a subconscious thing," Garfield theorized. "Maybe the qualities in me, the ones you want in Gavin, appealed to you and you decided to flirt with me."

"Maybe," said Raven standing up.

Garfield stood up with her. "Look, Rae, I want you to know that I'm not mad at you or anything. I hope you and Gavin are happy together and I hope you resolve the sex thing soon."

"I wish," said Raven. "I left him that night telling him that he would have to wait until I was married. If he asks me again…I'm going to tell him maybe we should see other people."

_That would make you single_, thought Garfield.

"Good luck," said Garfield, as he was about to sit back down at his table.

Raven held onto his arm. "Gar…look up."

Doing so, Garfield noticed the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

He chuckled at the thought that was cruising through his mind.

"Isn't that awkward?" he smiled.

Raven kissed Garfield on the cheek and Garfield could feel his body go cold.

"That was a plutonic gesture," Raven told him. "Do not expect me to pose nude for you."

"Noted."

* * *

Garfield spent Christmas Eve with his mother, going to church and watching _It's a Wonderful Life_. Afterwards, when his mother went to bed, he spent a half hour pounding his speed bag before going to sleep. 

As Garfield slept, the snowflakes danced in the air, all the way from the clouds to the ground where they stayed.

* * *

In the morning, Garfield and his mother woke up and opened up the presents they had bought for each other. They watched the news and at 1PM, they got ready, preparing some desserts. When they finished, it was quarter to four. 

"All right," said Sally. "We can get dressed and then head over to your friend's house.

Garfield got dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a blue tie. He sprayed on some Swiss Army cologne and put on his nice dress shoes.

"Gar, you are so damn hot," he said to the mirror.

* * *

The drive there was relatively quiet until Garfield opened his mouth and said, 

"Mom, whatever you do, try not to embarrass me."

Sally scoffed. "What makes you think I would do something like that?"

"Well, for starters you named me Garfield. I mean, they did have comics in the papers back then, right?"

"You have a very dignified name," countered Sally. "Besides, how many people have the name Garfield?"

"Are we talking real people or people and animals in general?"

"Just people."

"Only me. And there's President Garfield."

"Well aside from him, you're the only one."

"Well, yea, but how many kids do you know named Apple?"

"Well that's a dumb name. I don't know why celebrities choose to give their children the most ridiculous names."

Sally stopped the car. "What was the house number again?"

"1939," reminded Garfield. He rubbed his nose to conceal his nervousness.

_What was I thinking_, he thought. _I'm spending Christmas with my friend and my boxing coach. This is going to be a disaster. She's going to beg Bruce to let me stop and…I can't really think of anything else._

"My god," gasped Sally Logan when she came to the driveway of the Wayne house. "It's…so big."

"It gets even bigger when you get closer to it," said Garfield as if he was speaking to a child.

When they got to the end of the driveway, Garfield exited and then moved to the back of the car where the desserts were waiting for him. He would probably have to make a couple trips to bring them all in. There was one lemon moraine pie, one cherry, one pumpkin and one plateful of brownies-all homemade and all for Bruce's family in thanks for letting them spend Christmas with them. Sally herself carried a jell-o salad, which was cherry at the top and lemon at the bottom. They approached the door and Garfield rang the doorbell.

* * *

Several minutes before the Logans arrived, Tim Drake pounded on the bathroom door. 

"Damn it, Dick," he said to the door. "I need to get ready. You've been in there for almost thirty minutes. It doesn't normally take you that long to shave your ass!"

There was a click and Tim twisted the knob to find his brother wearing only a towel around his waist while shaving his face.

"Jeez," said Dick, "you seem wound. Are you angry because now you don't have enough time to shave _your _ass _and_ your pubes?"

"Screw you," said Tim as he squirted the cellophane hair gel into his hand. He wore only a wife-beater and his black dress pants with the appropriate black socks on his feet.

"It's true," continued Dick. "I mean, ever since Gar said that him and his mom were coming over, you've just been really…bitchy."

Tim rubbed the gel through his hair. "I have not."

"Yea, you have. I mean, you're making sure that everything is right where it should be. Hell…you're beginning to sound like Bruce."

Tim stopped and looked at his brother. "Shut up."

"I just speak the truth," said Dick as he got under his nose. "So, why are you so excited Logan is coming over?"

"He's my friend," Tim said simply. "Plus, I don't like the idea of him and his mom spending Christmas alone. And…he's my friend."

Dick chuckled. "Maybe you want to be more than that."

Tim wiped his sticky fingertips on a washcloth. "What are you talking about?"

Dick smiled. "I'm saying that he's light on his feet. That he likes to drop the soap in the shower."

Tim could feel his cheeks going red. "Shut up," he said sternly.

"Oh, come on," laughed Dick as he got his right cheek. "I mean, he does exhibit some of the signs. Hasn't had a girlfriend yet, you said that he did stage work-_musicals_ I might add, plus his voice has got that raspy squeak to it when he talks sometimes."

"Blow me," said Tim as he got out his toothbrush and after applying the Colgate, began brushing.

"I think you should say that to Garfield," smirked Dick. "Let's face it. The dude ranges up there on the Gay-O-Meter. I mean, I never thought you'd wind up there too."

"I'm not gay," said Tim as he continued brushing.

"Maybe he thinks you are," said Dick. "And now that he's going to be over here, he'll try to get alone in your bedroom and…stuff your stocking."

Tim stopped brushing and spit out the foamy saliva. "You're an asshole. Garfield isn't gay. If he was I doubt he would be heartbroken when Raven turned him down last Friday."

"Maybe he's bi," chuckled Dick. He patted Tim on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm only kidding about him being gay. He's a boxer and I've never seen him cry after taking a shot to the face. Relax, you know. Think I knew he didn't like Raven? The guy gets semi every time he sees her. Honestly, why are you so uptight about him coming over?"

A sigh was let out of Tim's lips. "I don't know," he said. "There's…there's something about Garfield that I can't put my finger on. I mean…he's got this genius IQ, he's got amazing artistic talent and he's moved up in boxing quite a lot and yet…he's hiding something."

Dick splashed water on his face and then rubbed his hand over it. "What is it?"

"I don't know," groaned Tim. "It's like…a pain. A hidden pain that he can't tell anyone about because he thinks it would hurt them too."

"Maybe his secret is he's gay," Dick said. A second later he burst out laughing.

"Whatever," said Tim. "I just-I want to know what it is."

"Maybe it's none of your business," advised Dick. "I mean, maybe it's something he doesn't want to talk about. Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Right," said Tim as he exited the bathroom. "I'll try to remember that."

* * *

"Maybe you should ring it again," advised Sally when no one came to the door after the first ring, five seconds ago. 

"Hang on," said Garfield, "I hear someone coming."

There was the sound of a click, and then the large wooden door opened and revealed the face of Bruce Wayne.

"Garfield," he greeted with a large smile. "Merry Christmas. Come on in." His attention quickly focused to Sally. "And Mrs. Logan," he extended a hand, "a pleasure to finally meet you at last."

"Oh, please call me Sally," she insisted. "Mrs. Logan is what the judges and defense attorney's call me."

"Very well," said Bruce. "As long as you call me Bruce." He turned towards the stairwell, "Tim, Dick, come on down."

From the large stairwell appeared Tim Drake, now dressed in a white shirt and black jacket to go with his black pants and a Christmas themed tie with Santa Claus golfing with a candy cane, followed by Dick in the same attire as his brother except with a dark blue shirt and a red tie.

Tim smiled when he saw his friend and gave him a hug. "Merry Christmas, Gar," he greeted.

"Merry Christmas, dude," Garfield greeted in return. He turned towards his mother. "You've met my mom, Sally."

Tim extended his arm. "Hello, Mrs. Logan."

"Hello," she said. "It's good to see you again, Tim."

Dick also introduced himself to Sally and gave Garfield a high-five. Now that the introductions were done, the true order of business had to be inquired by Garfield.

"How was your haul?"

"Oh, you should see what Bruce got me for my X-Box. Come on." He took off towards the living room and Garfield followed.

"We'll be eating in about two hours," called Bruce behind them. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"May I join you?" asked Sally. "I'd hate to just stand there while you're doing all the work."

"Thank you, if you don't mind," said Bruce.

"I'm a lawyer," reminded Sally. "I can handle things a lot more strenuous than a boiling pot."

They left towards the kitchen, leaving Dick standing there, feeling rather neglected.

"Right…" he said. "I'll just go into the living room."

* * *

"Plus I got _Vice City_ for my computer," said Tim as he raced Garfield in his virtual car. 

"Sweet, dude," said Garfield as Dick entered room.

"So, what'd you get?" asked Tim. "I mean, I've been ranting enough, let's hear your share."

"Two computer games, that other _Family Guy_ DVD set, clothes and some really good books."

"You're into books?" asked Dick from the chair.

"Oh, yea," said Garfield with his eyes still on the game. "My mom got me the illustrated version of _Da Vinci Code_. Man, that book is awesome."

Dick nodded. "Yea, I heard about that book. You believe that stuff in there about Jesus and all the others?"

"Well," said Garfield, as his car tapped the side of Tim's, "I won't say yes or no but I'll just say this: There's a reason that book's in the fiction section." He smiled at his statement but it soon faded when his car began spinning out of control. "Oh, crap," he said through gritted teeth. "Come on, come on," he pleaded. But before he could say any more prayers, Garfield's car had blown up, giving Robin the easy victory.

"I'm bored of this already," said Tim as he shut off the game. "Come on, Gar, I'll let you play _Vice City_. I'll show you how to pick up hookers too."

* * *

In the kitchen, Bruce Wayne basted the turkey again while Sally Logan set up everything on the table in the nearby dining room. 

"Your boys seem very nice," she called. "Did you make them take up boxing or was it something they wanted to do all on their own?"

"All theirs," responded Bruce. "I think Tim got it in him after he saw how strong it made me and Dick."

"Is it hard? I mean, to teach something that can be so complex?"

Bruce nodded as he put the turkey back in the oven. "Needs a few more minutes. Actually, it can be very trying at times. You have to help them correct their weakness because everyone has a different one. And then you have to teach them the basics and correct any faults they may have."

"And does there need to be a certain age to start?"

"In my opinion you need to be between the ages of 8 and 108 to start boxing," Bruce stated simply.

"I remember back in Gotham there was one club that had age restrictions and that was one thing I always despised. I believe that one is never too old to learn a new skill, no matter how many years it will take to perfect."

"You're very philosophical, Bruce," observed Sally. "How long does Garfield have until he has it right?"  
Bruce looked her in the eyes. "Not as long as I thought. He is probably one of the most amazing students I've ever had. He's not afraid to admit a mistake and always willing to learn how to do it the right way. But when he fought that Adonis kid last Thursday, I never expected him to knock him out in the 2nd round."

Sally frowned. "I watched those tapes. And you say that his opponent had had 5 amateur fights before?"

Bruce nodded. "Won all of them by KO in the first round."

Sally sighed. "I can't believe it. Three months ago I would have laughed if someone told me he was going to win a boxing match. But now, he's so muscular and much more confident. And best of all…he's happy. More happy than I've ever seen him in all his life." She turned to Bruce. "Thank you."

* * *

"Why would you do that?" asked Tim as Garfield zoomed past two police cruisers that had been set up to barricade him on the road. 

"Well, that cop's car hit me when I'm crossing the road so I just thought I'd give him a warning shot. How was I supposed to know that my warning shot would be a fatal shot?"

"You could have just blown out his tires," stated Tim.

Garfield squinted. "That's no fun. Plus this gets my blood pumping. I mean, what's better than a high speed chase?"

"Um, Gar, you're on fire."

Sure enough, the front of Garfield's _Cheetah_ had large flames coming from the hood. Garfield hit the appropriate button and his character-Tommy Vercetti-leaped out of the car seconds before it exploded and right into a police cruiser that sent him flying.

"Ouch," he cringed. He moved the scroll on the mouse to select the bazooka weapon. "Time to take out the trash." He aimed his weapon and fired at the oncoming police vehicle. The missile hit and blew up the vehicle.

As he heard an oncoming siren approach Garfield turned and saw an undercover police car strike him down, killing him instantly. The computer showed his virtual body laying there, just above the large green words, 'Wasted'.

Tim sighed. "You used to be a big shot…and now you're dead."

Garfield shrugged and got up from his chair. "_C'est la vie._"

There was a knock at the door and the two teens turned to find Dick there.

"Dinner's ready," he said and he left as quickly as he came.

Tim clapped his hands together and began to rub the palms together. "Oh, man, I can't wait for this. Bruce has been there for most of the afternoon mixing away at all sorts of stuff. Man, you're gonna love the turkey."

* * *

At the table, Bruce sat at the front, Mrs. Logan sat to his left, Dick to her left, and on Bruce's right was Tim and on Tim's right was Garfield. 

"Dick," said Bruce, "would you care to lead us into grace?"

"Oh, sure," said Dick. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and let the words flow.

"In the name of Allah the beneficent, the merciful. All praises due to Allah, lord of all the worlds. The one god to whom praise is due forever. The one who came to us in master Fard Muhammad and brought up the honorable Elijah Muhammad. Amen."

Tim and Garfield began to giggle at his prayer but Bruce raised an eyebrow over it.

"Tim," he said, "would you like to give it a shot?"  
Tim put his hands together and bowed his head, and after closing his eyes, began a sincere prayer: "Uh, God, thank you for the…bountiful food you place before us. Thank you for family and friends, especially those friends and families that join us now. Amen."

Just as everyone else was about to say 'amen' Tim finished real quick. "Oh and thank you for Mrs. Logan's jell-o entrée which is separate from the rest of the desserts. So…thanks. Amen."

"Amen," chorused everyone else.

After several minutes of passing every item on the table around, everyone had their plates full of something that they enjoyed.

"Great turkey, Bruce," said Garfield as he swallowed his first bite. "It's so moist and tasty."

"I'm glad you like it," thanked Bruce as he poured gravy on his potatoes.

"Man," said Tim as he dug his fork into the two jell-o with the cherry and lemon in it, "this is amazing. I've never had anything like it before. And the best part is you can have it _with_ dinner."

"Bruce never gives us dessert with dinner," complained Dick.

* * *

Dinner soon passed and dessert soon became the new item on the agenda. 

As Sally poured some coffee for herself, she turned to Bruce and asked, "So what did you get for Christmas?"

Bruce smiled. "Well, Tim and Dick pitched in and bought me a hot tub."

"It was more my money than Tim's," said Dick.

"We set it up last night since we always open up one present the night before," said Bruce. "They're wonderful for relaxing. And then there was a present I bought for myself."

Sally sipped her coffee. "You buy a present for yourself?"  
Bruce nodded. "But not every year. I like to save my money until I have enough for what I want. I'm putting an addition onto the house and building an indoor pool."

Garfield gasped and almost chocked on his piece of cherry pie. "Holy crap," he said. "An indoor pool?"

Bruce nodded. "I hope to begin sometime in the New Year. And then of course, there's the club."

"What about it?" asked Tim.

"I'm going to buy new equipment in March."

Tim sighed. "For a minute I thought you were gonna say we were moving out of there. Man, don't scare me like that."

* * *

Dessert came and went and forty minutes later, Tim and Garfield found themselves bored out of their minds. Video games seemed to get tiring and watching TV just seemed inappropriate at the moment. 

"Man, it's only 8:30," groaned Garfield. "If you got any ideas, I'm interested."

Tim snapped his fingers. "Let's use the workout room. I mean, our folks are talking their heads off and Dick's in his room talking with his girlfriend."

"I don't got my clothes here," objected Garfield.

"Pfft, use some of mine. I got some hangers for your clothes, don't worry."

They made their way up to Tim's room. As they stripped with their backs to each other, Tim asked, "Is everything OK?"

"Yea," Gar replied as soon as he slipped on the shorts and pulled the waistband. "Should it be?"

"Oh, yea," said Tim as he slipped on his shirt. "I mean, I'm just making sure you're all right. I mean, nothing's bothering you, right?"

Garfield grew suspicious around this line of questioning but said nothing.

"Everything's fine," he said with a smile.

* * *

Throughout their hour and a half workout, Garfield could feel the stare of Tim Drake pierce his body like a bullet through a ripe watermelon. Whether he was running for ten minutes on the treadmill, working on his biceps or benching 100, he could see out of the corner of his eyes, that Tim's blue eyes were watching him while he did his own exercises. 

At first, Garfield chose to ignore him. Maybe he was just checking out to see if he needed help or anything. But after a half hour, Garfield grew even more suspicious.

_Why is he staring at me like that,_ he thought. _He's really starting to creep me out and if I didn't know any better I'd say that he was…_

Garfield stopped the bicep curl and set the weights down, thinking about what he had just thought.

Was Tim really checking him out? No, not Tim. This guy had to be 100 percent heterosexual. But then did he turn away when Garfield went to look at him?

_It's not like he drops the soap in the shower_, thought Garfield. But…_why_ else would a guy stare at another guy unless he had a whole bunch of tumors all over his body?

"Why are you staring at me?" asked Garfield franticly to Tim.

Tim was caught off guard by this question and slowed down the step machine.

"Sorry," apologized Tim, "it's just…you look like something's bothering you."

Garfield sighed. "It's Raven."

Tim shrugged. "You gotta forget about it, man. I mean, she's still your friend and-"

"I know that but…I can't stop thinking about her. I mean, I don't want to pine away at her forever."

Tim got off the machine. "So don't pine. Go out there and find someone you like. There's someone for everyone…or so I hear. Like, do you still dream about her?"

"Yea."

"Regular dreams or…?"

Garfield sighed. "Naked," he replied. "I have never felt this way about someone before. But I want it not just to be lust."

"Do you, uh,love her?" asked Tim.

"I'm not going to answer that," said Garfield. He sighed and waved his hand at Tim. "Just forget about it. It's my problem, not yours." He wiped the sweat from his brow. "I'm done, how bout you?"

Tim nodded. "Yea. So…" he checked the clock, "its 9:15. Chances are Bruce is still talking your mom's ear off."

"Or the other way around," said Garfield. "So, what do you wanna do know?"

"Well…unless you wanna watch that Charlie Brown Christmas special-"

"Lucy's a bitch," Garfield blurted out.

Tim laughed. "Y-yea, she really is." He put his hand through his hair in thought and then snapped his fingers. "Let's use Bruce's hot tub," he exclaimed.

Garfield's eyes went wide and the suspicions he had came back.

_Now he wants to get me in a hot tub with him? Danger, danger, Gar Logan!_

This certainly was the double-edged sword for Garfield. If he said yes then he might end up with someone's hand on his upper thigh but if he said no he might have to spend the next two hours in boredom.

Doing the best to keep his bottom lip from trembling, Garfield simply said, "Sure."

Tim's face lit up. "Great, come on up to my room. I'll give you a suit and you can change in the bathroom."

Garfield did his best to forge sincere interest. "Awesome," he said.

* * *

Dick Grayson had been talking with his girlfriend for over an hour when he heard a knock at the door. "Hang on, babe," he said. Though he was on a portable phone, he didn't want any sound to interrupt him. When he saw Tim was there, he wasn't too happy to be interrupted by his younger brother's antics. 

"What do you want?" he asked Tim.

"I need to borrow one of your beach towels," was the reply.

"Dumbass," muttered Dick. However he soon found out that his girlfriend misinterpreted his insult. "What? Oh, no. No, I was talking to Tim. I wasn't talking to you, boo."

Dick instantly cringed at the pet name he secretly gave his girlfriend a few months ago.

Tim began to laugh. He found the towel and just as he was about to leave, he heard Dick say, "Hold on, Babs." He put the phone on hold and asked, "What the heck do you need a towel for?"

"Me and Gar are using the hot tub," Tim stated simply.

Dick's jaw dropped. "OK, bro, do you remember the conversation we had a few hours ago?"

Tim groaned in disgust. "Look, you know, you're just starting to bug me now."

"Oh, wake up," stated Dick. "You're going in a hot tub with a…_questionable_ sort of kid. Wait, who's idea was it?"

"Mine," answered Tim sternly.

"And did he say yes instantly?"

"He…I'm…I'm not sure," Tim said sincerely. "Oh, god. What the hell am I doing? What if he is and he thinks I'm attracted to him?"

Dick laughed. "Well…there are ways to see if you float his boat."

"How?" Tim asked.

"You know that Speedo you got? Wear that and he'll be finding some reason to move closer to you."

* * *

Garfield looked in the mirror and gazed at the bathing suit that was obviously shorter than the ones he usually had. While previous bathing suits went down to his kneecaps, this one sat three inches above them. 

_All I need is a pink shirt that's two sizes too small and I'll be ready to move to San Francisco. _

There was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Gar, you decent?" asked Tim through the two inches of wood.

Garfield wiped his brow and unlocked the door. Instead of looking at giving Tim the opportunity to comment him on his appearance, he turned the conversation towards the length of his suit.

"Would you look at this?" he asked. "Honestly, these are short shorts."

"Uh…yea," said Tim. "They sure are."

_Oh, god_, thought Tim, _he's having me check out his suit and now he's saying how short it is!_

Garfield suddenly realized that his idea just backfired on him.

_Oh, god_, he thought, _he's staring right at my crotch 'cause of these damn shorts!_

"Well, you could always go commando," joked Robin but as soon as he said it he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

_Great, now he thinks I want to get him naked._

Garfield had the exact same thoughts.

_Great, now he wants to get me naked._

"No thanks," he said. "Besides…I'm self conscious."

"Ah," said Tim. "O…K then."

"Lead on," Garfield quickly spoke.

Tim handed him a towel and marched on at a quick pace.

* * *

A hot tub is always a difficult thing to get into. As soon as your foot touches the water, it recoils because you expected the water to be not as hot as what your foot was in. But then you stick it back in and slowly submerge the rest of your body, gasping the more of your skin the water takes in. 

This was exactly how Garfield entered, though Tim was a bit more silent in his descent. Air leaked into Garfield's suit and made it rise with a huge bubble.

Though he pushed it down, it was visible long enough for Tim to laugh and say, "Gar, is that an air bubble, or are you just happy to see me?"

Garfield gave a small smile and thought, _Oh, no, he's being flirtatious._

Tim suddenly realized his error and thought, _Oh, no; he thinks I'm flirting with him._

They both gave an insincere laugh though neither of them knew that the other's laugh was insincere.

"This, uh…this feels nice," said Garfield. "Very…relaxing."

"Yea," agreed Tim. "It's good to, uh, relax the muscles and…stuff."

"Totally," agreed Garfield.

"Hang on," said Tim, "there's something I gotta do."

Garfield closed his eyes and let the water's relax him. He was soon jolted out of that relaxation when he felt a hand touch near his ribs.

Tim soon realized that his hand had come within contact of Garfield's body and they both shot out, standing instead of sitting.

"Holy crap," they cried together.

"Look," began Garfield while Tim also spoke, "I'm sorry but I'm not in to you."

"Look, I was reaching for the thermometer, I don't want you to think I was trying to get to any base or something."

They both stopped and heard each other's words.

"You were reaching for the thermometer?" asked Garfield.

"Yea. So…when you say you're not that into me…you mean you're not gay?"

"What?" Garfield exclaimed. "I thought _you_ were gay! And when you touched my ribs I thought you were gonna pull me closer to you so you could kiss me."

Tim began laughing. "Oh, my god. When I touched you, I thought you were gonna kiss me cause you thought I was feeling you up."

"So you're not gay?" asked Garfield.

"Are you?" asked Tim.

"No."

"Then you have your answer," smiled Tim.

The two boys looked at each other, laughed and then sat down, now sitting at opposite ends of the tub. They spent the next few minutes speaking about life in general.

"Do you believe we have a purpose?" asked Tim as he looked up at the full moon.

"Like…one that's destined for us or one that we make on our own?"

"Either one."

"Yea…I think we're all destined for something."

"So…if I were to scratch my head…is that part of God's plan?"

Garfield shrugged. "I don't know, I never saw the plan."

"What about death?" Tim asked.

Garfield gulped. "W-what about it?"

"Like, what do you think happens to us when we die? Do we live on as ghosts, do we go into the afterlife, do we have a choice in the matter…or do we just…do nothing?"  
Garfield thought of his mother, the pain she went through that day and the pain she would go through the rest of her life until…

"What do you think?" asked Tim.

Garfield's lip began to tremble. And before he could do anything to stop it, he began to sob. He covered his face with his hand, ashamed of the behavior he was emitting.

"Are you all right?" asked Tim with concern in his voice. He moved over so he was a bit closer to Garfield.

"Oh, god," sobbed Garfield. "Oh, god, oh…god."

"Gar…what's the matter?"

"Death," was the reply. "Death is the matter."

Tim moved close. Had it been when they first got in then both of their red lights would have been going off but now he knew that it was time to act as a friend.

"What do you mean?" asked Tim.

Garfield sniffled and ran a finger under his nose. "If I told you something…would you promise not to tell anyone?"

"I would," Tim answered immediately.

"Especially don't tell my mom that you know. She's…she won't want anyone's pity."

Tim put a hand on Garfield's shoulder. "Garfield, you can tell me."

_This is it,_ thought Tim. _This is the pain I could see. That look that he always had with him. This is it. It must have to do with his mom._

Garfield looked into Tim's blue eyes and told him what was the awful truth, "Tim, I have cancer."

There was dead silence. The only thing that could be heard was the hot tub whirring throughout the Christmas night.

Tim felt a shotgun blast impact right in his chest.

_Cancer? No, it can't be. Not Garfield…it can't be him. No, Garfield was a happy, energetic person and…people like him don't get cancer. No, not Garfield, not…Beast Boy._

"Holy Christ," whispered Tim. "W-when did you find out?"

Garfield wiped one of his eyes. "Thursday, after I got home from the club. I went last Sunday and I told the doctor, 'Doc, you guys always say that if you got something it's positive, it's bad, but if it's negative, you're good. I don't get it and I don't like it. If I got cancer, tell me it's negative, because I find nothing positive about results that say I have cancer.' And when I got home, my mom told me…the results were negative." He stayed silent and then chuckled. "My mom…almost acts like it's _her_ fault, you know? I mean…how the hell is it her fault? She didn't give it to me, I just…oh god."

"How…how long do you have?" asked Tim.

Garfield shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Tim. It's skin cancer and it is treatable but…you know, they can't save everyone."

Tim leaned back against the inner wall of the hot tub. "Gar…why didn't you tell us before?"

Garfield laughed. "Well for one thing it would have ruined the night. I mean, we're out celebrating Christmas, handing out presents and I drop the bomb that I have cancer? Jeez, Kori would have cried double that night."

Robin nodded. "Yea. And Million Dollar Baby was just a movie…" He looked at Garfield. "Are you going to start treatment or something?"

Garfield nodded. "I'm going on the second of January to see about that."

"Good," said Tim. "That's…good."

Garfield bowed his head and stared at his legs. "I'm sorry, Tim."

"For what?"

"I kind of just ruined your Christmas and you're probably gonna be thinking about me all night."

Tim smiled. "I'm going to be thinking about you all night? Gar, I thought we established the fact that I'm not gay."

Garfield looked at Tim. A genuine smile appeared on his face followed by genuine laughter.

* * *

They got out of the hot tub, redressed in their dress clothes and resumed playing video games, since now they felt the urge to play them coming back. 

"Who the heck is shooting at me?" asked Garfield to no one.

Tim shook his head. "I don't' know, man. This guy's been killing everyone. I'll try to sneak around and-"

Tim was cut off by the sound of gunfire and his character groaning and then his part of the screen going dead.

"Never mind," he said. He then looked at Garfield's screen and said, "Holy crap, that's him. Sniper him out."

Garfield switched his onscreen weapon to a sniper rifle, activated the scope and lined it up so that his target was in sight.

"Watch the birdie, you bastard," said Garfield a second before his finger pressed the button. Garfield's target was killed.

"Gar," called his mother from the living room entrance. "It's late. We should get going."

Putting down his controller, Garfield stretched and yawned. "OK, mom. Whatever you say." He got up and went to the door with his mother. She handed him empty plates from the food they had brought. In her hands was a huge paper bag, which she held on its side.

"Is there pot in there?" asked Garfield as a joke.

"It's some of the turkey on a paper plate," answered Sally.

"I ran out of plastic wrap," admitted Bruce.

Dick came down the stairs to say goodbye to the company. He hadn't socialized with them much but he didn't want to seem like a recluse.

Before Garfield left, Tim hugged him again holding him tight as if he was a rope in a tug of war contest.

Tim could feel his eyes burn and the rest of his face go hot.

Garfield could feel his air being cut off. He patted him on the back and said, "I'm OK." He thanked Bruce, Dick and Tim again and wished them a merry Christmas.

"Oh, Garfield," called Bruce. "If you want to come by the club anytime during the break, go ahead. We'll be open all day."

"Thanks," replied Garfield.

* * *

Tim sat in his room, reading _The Sweet Science, _the book Garfield had given him when he heard a knock at the door. 

"Come in," he permitted.

The door opened and Bruce stood there, now in jeans and a black shirt. "How are you doing?" he asked.

Tim smiled. "Fine. I had a good time today."

Bruce nodded. "So did Garfield and his mom. I'm glad we did this also. Thank you for suggesting it to him."

"No problem, Bruce…" Tim squinted and looked closely at Bruce's face. "Hey…what's that stuff on your lip?"  
Bruce moved his hand towards his lips, wiped them and looked at the red substance on them. His face turned a bit awkward but then he looked like he was trying to cover for something.

"It's, uh…that cherry part of the jell-o. That's all."

Tim's face dropped. "Shit, Bruce, you didn't put the moves on Gar's mom did you?"

"We're not having this conversation," said Bruce. He shut the door before Tim could get another word in.

Tim groaned and went back to his book. He couldn't stop reading. The words just seemed to flow and the pages were moving like they were in a tornado. God, how he loved this book. He would have to thank Garfield again the next time he saw him.

And then the secret that Garfield let out came back to him. He had put it aside ever since he had made that joke but now it came back. And now that he was alone, Tim Drake felt safe enough to cry.

He was sure Bruce wouldn't hear him but the one person he didn't count on hearing him was Dick, who heard and opened up the door.

"Are you crying?" he asked.

Tim looked up and then looked back down at the desk where he was reading. "I'm not," he said, though he knew it was a terrible lie. You could still see tears dripping from his eyes.

"Yea, you are," said Dick as he entered the room. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," sniffed Tim. "I'm fine."

Dick chuckled. "Let me guess. Gay Garfield said he wanted to get to know you better before he lets you stick your cock in his ass?"

That was the last straw for Tim. He shot up from his chair and grabbed Dick by the arm with one hand and by the neck with the other. With all the strength (with the added rage) he could muster, he pushed Dick towards the bedroom door, shutting it.

As Dick began gasping for air, Tim spoke into his ear.

"You listen to me, Dick, you ever say anything bad about Garfield Logan again and I will personally kill you like I saw so many people killed on the streets. And I don't care if you think you're joking or if you think you're funny. Gar Logan is one of the nicest people I've ever met and if I were you, I'd shut the hell up and try to get to know him."

Tim pushed off of Dick, who bent over and coughed like he had a bad cold. He looked up at Tim with bitter cold eyes.

"I don't know what the hell your problem is…but I suggest you get over it. You're not on the streets anymore, so don't try any of that street-life shit with me." With that, Dick left the bedroom.

But even though he was gone, Tim was still mad. Mad at Dick for being an asshole, mad at people for being too judgmental and just plain pissed off for Garfield having cancer. He went to the corner where his speed bag used to be but then remembered that he had given it to Gar.

Would he even live long enough to use it as long as Tim had?

The anger now leaking from his pores, Tim drew his fists back and began pounding the hell out of his wall.

To Be Continued...

Was that shocking? R&R


	10. The Streets of Jump City

I know I haven't updated this in a long time and I was making promises that I was. I told a good friend that I would have it up in October…yea, I'm a liar. So, I'm going to make this extra long chapter. Hope you like it. But first, I'm going to do a first: Respond to your reviews.

SamRH: The whole gay thing was meant to be funny (duh) and I'm glad it worked. Sorry if I'm a jerk on the board with the icons. I'm a man-boy. But that's no excuse. Glad you like the story.

Snea: I aim to please and I aim to update.

Zerowolfgirl: I'm going to out of my way and say that without you this story would not be what it is today. I would have ended it earlier and it would be forgotten. As for grammar and spelling, I hope to do better.

Darkoftheknight: I know, poor Gar. You may be iffy on this chapter.

Javer: I cannot wait to hear what you have to say about this chapter. I await and yet dread reading a review from you. Glad that you liked chapter nine. I guess I took a long enough break. Time to get back to work.

Darkmagic101: I'm glad that it wasn't expected. I hope you enjoy this chapter too.

Margo86: I don't really mention much of Garfield's dad in this chapter but we may see him next time.

Darkest Midnight: One of the best? You do realize that now I've got to continuously live up to that expectation. Just kidding. I'm not an amazing writer. I'm just a writer.

CalliopeMused: Well, they're not homophobes…they're just guys. I'm glad that the cancer thing didn't come out clichéd. That would be a disaster. Bruce and Sally threw you more than the cancer? Wait till you see this chapter.

The Mad Shoe: Glad you loved the major plot twist. Now the major plot twist for this chapter…WHO SHOT MAD MOD? Wait, that's not this story…or any story. Never mind.

Still Trying to Fly: If you liked the last chapter then you might like this one. I don't know.

Shadow Hater: You are the lowest piece of scum on this planet. You rank up there with, Saddam and Hitler as biggest morons on the face of the planet. You are possibly the same type of moron we saw marching in Toledo with the other skinheads.

BeastWithin: holds up lighter Yes! Let's keep the faith.

dl316ph: I hope this eases your pain. With the length you should be good for quite a while. True, great stories don't come around too much and I'm glad you think mine is one of them. I'm one of the greats? You must not have read any of my other stuff.

doc-trigger: I explain the 'negative positive' thing in chapter nine. Go back and read it if you don't get it. Glad you go to the gym. I do as well and it makes me feel great!

Hoshi-ko88: DUDE…I just did.

ShadeyMike: Glad you liked the scene between those two. Soap opera twist, for a second I thought you were calling the entire story a soap opera. Glad you didn't.

Blong: I will most certainly do that if you continue to update.

Zakuyoe: I'm glad you reviewed this and I think you should update your story too.

MistofDarkness: Glad you liked the funny stuff. OK, I updated…just please…don't hurt me.

SparkyX: Well, we all have to die sometime. But will that time be soon? Glad you like it.

GA Reader: Thanks. Always good to find people who appreciate my work.

TTLuver: This was as soon as I could do it so I hope this was worth your wait.

Locker87: Best ever? Whoa…my head is getting bigger! Thanks for the pudding.

CStar: Eh…I'm trying to cut back on the sex scenes. After I wrote the last one I got an offer from Penthouse to come write the Forum letters.

Cali: You updated twice so you must like this story. I don't think his views are really Christian. They are more like those Socialist Nazi's you saw on the news in Toledo. Pure scum if you ask me.

Beastdog: Addicting? In a good way or a bad way? I'm glad that you-like others-say that this has restored your faith in the AU story. Some stories don't do it justice. Hey, easy on hugging Gar, I need him for this chapter.

Cycloptic Night Bat: Wow…and I thought people would be bored with this story.

The Bat Thing: I'm so glad you updated again and gave this story a chance despite your…lack thereof love of the Titans. Well, the Titans can't win them all, but I'm glad I can win this one for them. I knew you would love Tim, Dick and Bruce in this story.

MaskedSoldier: Well don't explode yet. I need all the reviews I can get.

Lilyandjamesrox: When I first read this, I thought that the people who run Fanfiction were actually giving me an award and I was like, "I was never able to vote for myself!" But then I found out the truth. Still, I was equally thrilled and flattered. I hope this chapter makes it even better.

Before we go on with the story, I have to keep my word to a friend. I promised her I would honour her later mother, who passed while this story was being worked on. I want Zerowolf girl to know that my thought and prayers are with her every step of the way and that I intend on being first in line for her book singing one day.

**__**

R.I.P. Patricia Ann McAteer

And now…on with the story.

* * *

Chapter Ten: The Streets of Jump City

On December 26th Raven sat in her boyfriend Gavin's bedroom while the boy played on his guitar, plucking at the strings, making no real music at all.

He looked at his girlfriend laying face up on his bed and knew that now was a good time to bring it up.

"Rae," he said, setting his guitar in the corner and getting up on the bed with her, "my parents are gone."

Raven sighed. She knew where this was going but decided to let it play out instead of just jumping to the end.

"And?" she asked.

Gavin moved in and kissed her neck. "And they won't be back for hours," he continued. As he moved his hands towards the buckle of his belt, Raven stopped him.

"Gavin," she said sternly. "For the last time: I am not having sex with you."

"Why not?" Gavin shouted. "I have been waiting too long for this, Raven! I am not going to wait forever just because you want to wait until you're married!"

"That's right," Raven said sternly. "And if you can't accept that then maybe we should see other people."

Gavin's eyes went wide. His mouth hung, an open tunnel for any insects in the room.

Before Raven could get off the bed she felt Gavin's left hand strike her in the face.

Now Raven had been hit in the face many times before. She was a boxer and this was something that came with the sport. But this time it felt different; someone she cared about had never struck her, nor by someone who told her that they loved her more than life itself.

Raven screamed in pain and in fear. She pleaded with Gavin to stop as she could feel her face was swelling up with more blows. He could feel his hands touching her all over, in parts where she had allowed him before and parts he knew were off limits to him.

Gavin grinned as he continued his assault. "You're mine," he hissed. "And whatever is mine, I use when I want."

* * *

Garfield sat in his bedroom thinking about what he had told Tim two days ago. He felt ashamed that he broke down and cried like a baby but there was no use trying to forget it. He wondered if Tim would tell Bruce or Dick.  
_  
He'll tell Bruce first_, thought Garfield. _Then he'll talk to me about it and ask me if I want to tell the rest of the club…then I'll have to. I can't just say that I look so sickly for no good reason.  
_  
The telephone rang and Garfield sighed. His mom had gone out with some friends again so that left him to take care of anything that happened in the house. As he marched into the kitchen he told himself that if it was Tim they weren't going to discuss it. He picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

The voice at the other end was shaky. Loud traffic from the nearby road flooded the area and made it even more difficult for the voice to be heard.

"G-Garfield?" the voice asked.

Garfield frowned. While the voice was familiar, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Uh, yea, who is this?"

"Garfield…I need your help," the voice at the other end sobbed.

Garfield listened to the sobs and instantly knew who it was. "Raven? Are you OK?"

There was another sob and her croaky voice saying, "I'm not, Gar. He hit me and hit me and he wouldn't stop." Raven began to sob loudly.

Panic seized Garfield. "Raven, where are you?"

There was a pause and then he heard her say, "I'm at 39th and Kane."

"Don't move from there," he said. "I'll be there in about…five minutes." He hung up the phone without even saying so much as goodbye. He moved towards the kitchen counter and found his mother's car keys under today's mail. As soon as he felt them in his hands he felt the hatred for Gavin Goth. He moved towards his bedroom and got his hand wraps out of his gym bag. Having memorized how to accomplish successful wrapping, Garfield was done both hands in a minute. He then moved towards the drop drawer of his dresser and pulled out a switchblade that his father had sent him for his last birthday in June. He slipped the knife in his back pocket and exited the apartment.

* * *

Garfield drove slowly as he approached 39th and Kane. He was hoping that Gavin hadn't followed her and given her another beating. If that was the case then Garfield had the switchblade in the glove compartment in case Gavin wasn't intimidated by his stature.

"Shit," he cursed when he couldn't find Raven. "Come on, Rae, where are you?"

He decided that he would turn the car around in a nearby parking lot and then go back the other way a couple times and then search for her on foot but just as he pulled into the parking lot, there she was, sitting by a payphone. Her face was buried in her kneecaps, hiding the obvious fact that she was sobbing.

Garfield quickly shifted the car to park and hopped out, running to his hurt friend.

"Raven?" he asked, getting down to her level. "It's Garfield. Can you move?"

She looked up. Her face looked tired and old and there was a bruise on her cheek. She wrapped her arms around Garfield's neck and allowed him to pull her up.

"Oh god, Garfield. He hit me and hit me and he wouldn't stop."

Helping her up, Garfield slowly walked Raven to the passenger side of his car.

* * *

Garfield fidgeted with the key to his apartment while holding Raven close to him the entire time.

"Can I use your shower?" she asked.

While Garfield would have been intrigued at the fact that his crush was asking to use the shower at his house, he knew that now wasn't the time to let his hormones run rampant.

He nodded and looked at Raven's face. "Does it hurt much?"

She shook her head. "It's just a bit sore," she answered. "Nothing I can't handle. You're sure I can use your shower?"

Garfield nodded. "My mom won't be back for a couple of hours so take your time. When you get out I'll make you something to eat."

"Thanks."

"Where's Gavin?" asked Garfield.

Raven looked at him now with sad eyes. "Gar, don't go out looking for him. I'm through with him…just…don't go to start a fight."

Garfield held up his hands and gave a smile. "Hey, all I want to do is talk to him. Tell him that if he touches you again that he'll regret it."

Raven sighed. "You're just going to talk?"

"Just to talk."

* * *

Garfield parked his car in the arcade parking lot. Knowing that what was going to happen might turn ugly, he reached into the glove box and pulled out the switchblade and put it in  
his back pocket. He exited the car and moved towards the back of the building. Sure enough, as Raven had expected, he was sitting there with a nickel bag of weed in his hands.

He seemed in a daze and by looking at him, Garfield would never have been able to guess that he was Raven's attacker.

Gavin Goth seemed a bit disturbed by Garfield's presence. "Hey, man…you ain't allowed back here."

Garfield kept his wrapped hands in his jacket. "I make my own rules," he said. "Plus I'd like some pot. You got any on you?"

Gavin smiled. It seemed that a request for marijuana was all the proof he needed to see that whoever this guy was, he was cool. "Sure, man," answered Gavin with a smile. "How much do you want?"

Garfield shrugged and sat down next to Gavin. "Ah, just charge me for as much as I smoke."

"Sweet," said Gavin. "I got a couple of friends coming in about ten minutes. You from around here?"  
_  
If he's got friends coming, I'm going to have to be quick._ "Oh, yea," Garfield said. "Just moved. I wanted to find a town that had two things: Hot chicks and good weed."

Gavin laughed. "Well, I think you may be home. I got me a good babe."

"You two do it?" asked Garfield.

Gavin grew angry. "Nah, she's all 'wait till we're married'. Had to smack the bitch around just to show her who's boss."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, and while I'm doing it she's screaming 'Help me' and all that. And the funny thing is-" Gavin stifled a laugh, "she's a boxer. She's beat all these butch girls and couldn't lay a hand on me."

"Really?" said Garfield. The blood was boiling inside his body now. He wanted to take out the knife and run it across Gavin's throat and stab about his eyes.

"Hell yeah. And I get a good feel of her tits and her box. And when I'm doing this she's screaming for somebody…Gayfield I think his name was."

"So you're hitting her and she's screaming for some guy named Garfield?"

"No, Gayfield."

"No," said Garfield, "it's Garfield."

Gavin's eyes went wide. "What the-?"

Garfield stood up and let his hands out of his pockets. "So you like to hit girls, is that it?"

Gavin stopped rolling his doobie and looked up at Garfield. "Dude, what happened to your hands?"

The wrapped hands shot up and grabbed Gavin by the collar of his jacket. Slamming him against the wall, the weed fell to the ground.

"What the hell is your problem?" cried Gavin. "Who are you?"

"I'm the bitch's friend," growled Garfield. "From the boxing club."

Gavin's lip began to quiver. He began stammering and if he hadn't gone earlier his pants surely would have been wet by now. "Look, man, you don't understand. It wasn't like that. She started hitting me and I had to defend myself. Trust me, there's nothing going on."

Garfield loosened his grip. "You're telling me the truth?"

Gavin smiled. "Hell, yea. I mean I love her. There's nothing going on."

Releasing his grip, Garfield smiled. "OK, that's good because I don't want you think that I'm-" Garfield drove his fist into Gavin's stomach and began to pound his body with liquid combinations.

"Huh? Nothing going on, nothing going on? You dirty cocksucker!" shouted Garfield. He rarely lost his temper and he knew that Raven wouldn't be happy at this behaviour but he didn't care. Gavin had hurt someone he cared about. And had it been Kori, Victor or Tim who had fallen victim to Gavin's fists, Garfield would have hit just as hard.  
He could feel hands tugging at his back and pulling him away from his targets. Sure enough, behind him were two pale-faced friends of Gavin's, wearing the black eyeliner and nail polish.

"Get off of me, you ugly bastards," shouted Garfield as he punched one in the eye. The friend moved back, holding his palm to his wounded orb while Garfield pushed off the other one. The other came charging at him, leaving enough time for Garfield to pull out the switchblade and draw the blade with a click.

The Goths stopped and gazed at the blade.

"Don't hurt us," pleaded Gavin.

"Stay away from Raven," growled Garfield. "And for the love of God, stop wearing nail polish!"

* * *

Raven had exited Garfield's shower and had dressed back in her original clothing. She sat on Garfield's sofa, waiting for him to come through the door but for the past twenty minutes there hadn't been so much as a buzz at the intercom. She began to grow worried. Had Garfield kept his word and just talked or was he lying and had he gone to beat the crap out of Gavin. Oh, God! What would her dad say when he saw the marks on her face? Would he tell her mom in his letters? She'd just say that she fell. People fall all the time.  
There was a click and Garfield came through the door, making his way to the bathroom before Raven could even ask him what happened.

* * *

"This is gonna be a photo finish, Raven," said Garfield as he zipped into the bathroom. He slammed the door and locked and then made an over the top groan that made it sound like he was emptying his bowels. In reality, he was pulling off his hand wraps and rinsing his naked hands under warm water, washing the blood off of them.

He hissed as the water stung his open wounds. Though they were little scrapes, Garfield knew that they could be just as painfully annoying as a nail in your foot. As soon as he was done, he flushed the toilet and sprayed some air freshener in the air. He unlocked the door and exited the bathroom.

"Do you want something to eat?" asked Garfield.

"Where did you go?" asked Raven. "I was almost going to call Victor and see if he could go looking for you."

"I found Gavin," explained Garfield. "You know, told him if…he pulled any of that stuff again…he'd regret it."

"Does talking hurt?" asked Raven.

"What?"

"Does talking hurt?"

"Uh…no?"

"Well it must hurt you if you got blood on your knuckles."

Tears began to form in Raven's eyes.

"Did you hurt him?" she asked.

"Yes," said Garfield.

Raven quietly sobbed. "Why would you do that?"

Garfield moved towards her. "It had to be done, Raven."

She brought up a hand and smacked him hard on the face.

Garfield remained where he was.

"You didn't have to do that," she screamed. "You little creep! You think that was going to impress me? You think I want some big tough man to fight my battles for me!"

Garfield stayed silent. The words were burning him.

"You said you were just going to talk!"

"I did that," said Garfield. "Just because I decided not to mention getting even with that jerk makes me the bad guy?"

"You're just like him," spat Raven.

"How?" screamed Garfield. "How am I like that piece of crap! I could have easily beaten you when you slapped me! But I'm better than that, Raven! What did you expect me to do? Just go over and talk about my _feelings_!"

"You just did it to impress me!"

Garfield gasped. "That is the DUMBEST thing I have ever heard you say, Raven."

Raven moved towards the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Garfield.

"Home…and I would really like it if you stayed out of my way for the next couple of weeks!"

She slammed the door before Garfield could say a word in rebuttal. He sighed and flopped down on the couch.

"Great…" he whispered to himself. "Just great."

* * *

Once home, Raven avoided her father, saying she was feeling ill. She picked up the phone and dialled Kori's phone number. She picked up and allowed Raven to tell her what was going on.

Four hours later, Kori suggested that they continue this conversation tomorrow at her place.

* * *

On the 27th of December the club had opened back up again. Garfield went as earliest as possible, hoping that working out would keep his mind off the feud he had with Raven. Upon entering he saw that Bruce was up in his office and Tim was nowhere to be seen. Garfield proceeded towards the changing room and after putting on his workout clothes, proceeded out towards the gym…still deserted.

So much for sparring, he thought. He got down on the ground and began to stretch his body.

In a way Garfield was almost hoping he wouldn't see Tim today. Given how he had reacted to the revelation of Garfield's cancer, the reality of it must have sunk in further now and right now Garfield didn't want sympathy. He was sick and his relationship with Raven was probably worse than a Jew and a neo-Nazi.

Don't think about her. You came here to practice. Practice!

"Right," Garfield said to no one in particular.

After five minutes of stretching, Garfield began to do push-ups off the ground. After finishing his 25th and last until he was done his ten second rest, he heard the door at the top of the stair close. Garfield looked up and saw Bruce coming down the stairs franticly.

"Oh, Garfield," said Bruce in a startled tone. "I had a feeling you would show up."

"Really?" asked Garfield. "Why is that?"

"Not important," said Bruce as he reached the desk. "Now look, I need to go and take care of some business for the club."

"This about the new equipment?"

"Yes."

Garfield sighed. If Bruce was going and no one else was here, Garfield had a feeling that he was going to be asked politely to leave quickly.

"Do you think you can watch over the club while I'm gone?" asked Bruce.

A warm feeling flowed through Garfield's body. Bruce was asking him to watch over the club? Yea, he could do that.

"OK," squeaked Garfield.

Bruce gave a thin smile. The great Christmas cheer would probably show itself again next year. "Great," he said. "I should be an hour or two. If you get bored, I have a radio in my office and some boxing magazines if you like."

"O-OK," repeated Garfield as Bruce headed out the door. "Is, uh, Tim coming by or something?" Though he wasn't too keen on seeing him earlier, it was better to be with someone than to be alone.

Bruce nodded. "He might. He said he had to take a look at something in town so I dropped him off. He might come, he might not but he did have his bag with him."

As Bruce left, Garfield felt a bit relieved. He could practice in total solitude. Since he had finished stretching, he would work on his footwork now since he felt he wasn't as quick as he could be. Just as he got near the taped floor, the phone at Alfred's desk rang. It could also be heard from Bruce's office though the sound was muffled.

Garfield sighed and moved towards the desk. He picked up the phone and said politely as he could, "_Titans Boxing Club_, how may I help you?"

"Is Bruce there?" asked an older male voice that Garfield didn't recognize.

"Uh, no he's not. Can I take a message?"

"Who is this?"

"Well…I'm kinda in charge right now."

"Ah. All right, tell him that Mr. Crozier from Steel City called. He's got my number and all that. Do you know when he'll be back?"

"No, I don't," replied Garfield. "Maybe two hours."

"All right, then. Who are you, anyway? You new to the gym?"

"Yea, I joined in early November."

"Ah, are you coming to the show? Or did Bruce not tell anyone about it yet?"

Garfield shook his head though Mr. Crozier would never see it. "No…he didn't."

"Crap," cursed Mr. Crozier. "I guess he only told his son and that other kid he has."

"Tim."

"Yea, that's his name. OK, well, just make sure he gets the message, please."

"I will."

"Bye."

Mr. Crozier had hung up before Garfield even had a chance to say 'Goodbye' himself.

Garfield wrote down the message and put it up in Bruce's office. As soon as he put it on the desk, Garfield stop and took a few minutes to look at all of the accomplishments that he had seen briefly and from a distance. There was the state heavyweight championship belt above the window and another one above it. On the shelves were books and between them were trophies, all first place. It was astounding for Garfield. That was when he saw between two large trophies a picture of Bruce with Muhammad Ali.

"Whoa," was all he could say. It's one thing to meet some famous boxers but to meet Muhammad Ali was a honour that any boxer would die for.

There were newspaper clippings on the wall that highlighted Bruce's wins and they all had headlines that were flattering.

Remembering that he had come to train and not get star-struck, Garfield left the office and moved back down the stairs to the tape and began his footwork.

Ten minutes later, Tim came through the door, a red toque covering his head.

"Hey, Gar," he greeted as his friend stepped between the tape. "Bruce go out or something?"

"Yea. Said it had something to do with the new equipment. So he left me to answer the phone and look after the place since I was already here."

"Cool. Anybody call?"

"Guy named Crozier from Steel City. Is there a show coming up?"

Tim nodded. "Crozier's a trainer out in Steel City. He arranges shows for all the surrounding clubs and I guess it's that time of year again. Yea, Bruce told me about it last night after they talked about it."_He probably told his son and that other kid he has._

_Other kid? thought Garfield. _It was strange. Instead of saying 'He probably told his sons' he said 'son', singular, 'and that other kid he has.' Other kid. Was that how people saw Tim? He was after all not Bruce's child by blood but yet he had lived with him for several years. Garfield decided to ask when Tim came out of the locker room.

thought Garfield. It was strange. Instead of saying 'He probably told his son' he said 'son', singular, 'and that other kid he has.' Other kid. Was that how people saw Tim? He was after all not Bruce's child by blood but yet he had lived with him for several years. Garfield decided to ask when Tim came out of the locker room. 

"Hey, Tim?"

"Yea," said Tim as he stretched.

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Garfield hesitated a few seconds for asking, "What exactly is your relationship with Bruce?"

Tim stopped stretching. He remained on the ground and stared at Garfield.

"What do you mean?"

"What is your relationship with Bruce?" Garfield repeated. "I know it's not exactly a normal one. I could tell by the way you act and talk towards each other."

Tim got up off the floor and looked a bit angry, "Look, man, I don't know what sick ideas you got going through your head but Bruce hasn't done anything to me."

Garfield frowned. "What?"

"He doesn't molest me! I'm not his boy toy! Just cause he's single doesn't mean he's gay! I mean, he's even got a date tonight! And besides, are you one to talk? When was the last time your dick got physical contact from something other than your hand?"

Tim was fuming. His face was red.

Garfield went white. "I wasn't thinking that," he said. "I meant on a father-son level."

"Oh." Tim looked at his own shoes and then started laughing. "S-sorry-ha ha- it's…oh God-ha-I thought you thought Bruce and I were doing the horizontal monster mash." He burst into a fit of giggles and fell on the floor. He quickly regained himself and moved closer to Garfield.

"On a father son level, I'm basically what's called his ward."

"Ward?"

"Yea, Bruce Wayne and his youthful ward, Tim Drake. Dick used to be his ward too but when Dick turned sixteen, he adopted Dick. Made him his legal son."

Garfield felt a bit guilty about brining this up now. Tim was 17 and still his ward.

"Oh, I see."

Tim nodded. "Yea, so he's not my father and…I mean, I don't even know if my own father is still alive."

"Well…what about that thing you saw in the paper?"

Tim shook his head. "It's…a long shot. And who knows, he may have left Gotham."

"What was he like?" asked Garfield.

"Who?"

"Your father."

Tim opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. "He…was a difficult man, actually. We lived in a shabby, shitty apartment with only one bedroom. I slept on a mattress in the living room. And…he was a gambler. Doing illegal stuff. Drug dealing, pimping and gun running. And…he would beat the shit out of me from time to time." Tim looked upset about hearing himself say this. "But I still loved him and I hoped he felt the same way. One time I get a call from him telling me to take a brown paper bag under his bed to this address across town. I had to do it because he was stuck in the subway and if his client didn't get the goods, they would come and kill him. I was about nine and it wasn't until I was about five minutes away from the guy's house that I realized that I was carrying two pounds of cocaine. My dad put it in plastic bags and stuffed it in a brown paper bag." Tim gave a sad chuckle. "At nine years old when most kids were playing baseball or hockey, I was dealing drugs to save my dad's life."

"Did he use drugs?"

"Oh yea," said Tim. "I never did because I saw what it did to him and I swore that I would never let myself become that polluted. But I also realized that with the life I was living at the moment, I wouldn't be going anywhere fast. So I went to school and I was just dumb as shit. I could barely read or write. My grades were terrible but my teachers passed me simply because they didn't care or they just didn't want to deal with me for two years in a row."

"So what happened when your dad left?"

Tim continued. "OK. So I get home from school and my landlord, Mr. Mobutu, Jamaican dude, is surprised to see me. Says he saw my dad leave with two suitcases and he looked really scared. So I head up to my apartment and I find a folded up note-I still got it, it's in my room-with 'Timmy' across it. I open it up and it says, 'Sorry, Timmy. The heat is on and I can't afford to take you with me. I'm probably never going to return to Gotham. There's two G's under the bed in a suitcase. I'm sorry to do this to you. Signed, Steven 'Shifty' Drake.'"

Tim began to gently bite the top of his lip. "And I never saw him again."

"Dude," was all Garfield could say.

"Yea. And I didn't know why my dad had left until the next night when I hear someone just pounding on the door. Me, I'm on my mattress and I just moved to the bathroom and hid in the tub. Then I hear the door just break and I hear voices in the apartment."

"Cops?"

Tim shook his head. "Drug dealers. I pulled the shower curtain shut and was in the fetal position. Turns out that my dad screwed them over on a deal. Stole five million from them and left town because his partner was found later with a bullet through his head and all of his fingernails and toenails missing. They pulled them out."

"God," groaned Garfield.

"I know. And whoever they found in that apartment, that's what they were going to do unless they gave back the money. So they're searching the place, swearing and all that. One of them said, 'Him and his little bastard are gone.' And then I hear the door to the bathroom open and the lights turn on."

Garfield's mouth hung open and his eyes were wide. "They found you?"

"This one guy comes in and decides to take a piss since they can't find me. And right behind him, I was hiding, shaking and almost crying in only my underwear. And after he flushes, they all leave. But I was so scared that I stayed in that bathtub until the next morning when I could see the sun through the curtain. After that I told Mobutu what had happened and he told me that he wasn't going to charge me rent so long as I went to school. And that's what I did. Until I met Bruce."

"How'd you do that?"

"Oh," laughed Tim. "I tried to rob him."

"What?" exclaimed Garfield.

"He told me later that he was there watching a boxing match and he had to stop in this restaurant to ask for directions. So as he's doing that, I get in the car-dude leaves it unlocked of all the towns to do that-and I was just going to steal a few bucks but then he comes out of the place so I hop into the backseat and hid behind the passenger seat. Bruce takes off and about thirty seconds later I hear him say, 'How long do you plan on staying back there?'"

"He knew you were there?

Tim nodded. "I almost crapped myself out of fear. So he pulls over, gives me a lecture and all that Bruce stuff. But then he warns me that if he ever catches me in his car again that he would personally make sure I ate all my food through a straw for the rest of my life."

"Ouch."

"Yea, he was a real hard ass. So then I take off running and unfortunately I run into some muggers. Older kind of muggers, like in their 40's. And they're trying to be nice at first, asking me where I'm going and then one of them grabbed me by the writs with one hand-_one hand_- and covers my mouth with the other two each grab my legs. And I'm screaming that I don't got any money and I knew that with those kind of muggers if you don't got money, you got something else they want."

Garfield wasn't sure what he was talking about. "What is that?"

Tim sighed. "They were gonna rape me, Gar." His voice became bitter and angry. "Those…_bastards_ were gonna rape me in a goddamn alley and then take me god knows where! You hear the crime reports in Gotham? Group of sick bastards like them kidnapped a 14 year old boy and forced him into orgies and that before killing them. And I knew that if I didn't get away, I would be going through the same thing." He took a moment to stop. "So, anyway, they got me in the alley and they force this cloth in my mouth, they tie it around my head so I can't spit it out and scream. They're feeling me up and then just as this guy's gonna pull down my sweats, I hear somebody shout, 'Get the hell away from him!' I look up and there's Bruce, jacket off, sleeves rolled up and looking pissed off as ever. This point I'm crying buckets and now I'm doing it even more because now I look like a little street bitch. So anyway, these guys are like, 'Who the hell are you?' and then Bruce just leaps forward and starts pounding the hell out of them and…I was just amazed. I saw that this was a man who didn't need guns, knives, brass knuckles or anything to fight. His body was his weapon. He moved so swiftly that they didn't lay a hand on him and in about ten seconds they're all on the ground out cold. Bruce looks and me and he's like, 'Do you want something to eat?' Of course I forget that I got this rag in my mouth and I start talking gibberish. And I was actually so scared of him that I passed out."

"What happened after that?"

"I woke up in his car and he's driving to a restaurant. And I just stayed still because I was afraid he was going to hit me. Don't ask why. After that, we ate and we got talking and well…"

* * *

Thirteen year old Timothy Drake sat across from his tall bold saviour.

"I…never actually got around to thanking you," he said as he stabbed his steak gently with his fork. "If you didn't come when you did, those creeps would have carved me up and you'd've seen me in the obits."

"No doubt," said Bruce. "After this I'll take you home. I won't mention the trying to steal my car thing to your parents but I will tell them that you were almost attacked."

Tim shook his head. "Don't got 'em."

Bruce stopped chewing and swallowed. "Don't have what?"

"Parents," mumbled Tim. "My dad left me and…my mom died when I was a kid."

"You're still a kid," stated Bruce.

"I can handle myself," argued Tim.

"Yes," said Bruce sarcastically, "and you proved it so well back in that alley."

"Hell with you," grunted Tim. "I don't need your sympathy!"

"Maybe," said Bruce, "but you need my help and like it or not you're going to get it."

Tim scoffed. "What you gonna do? Put me in some orphanage? I know what those guys do to kids like me: Treat 'em like crap!"

"Well what if _I _was the one who looked after you?"

Tim scoffed. "Why do you care about me?"

"Right now I don't," stated Bruce. "If you don't want to come, that's fine. It's your choice. After all, you're old enough to take care of yourself. But, I think that it may work out. I'd hate to see you become a statistic."

Tim stayed still. "What? You gonna make me your son or somethin'?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. I'm not adopting you. You'd be…I think the term is 'ward'.

"A wart?"

"_Ward_. I would look after you and make sure you're taken care of."

"Shit, I don't know," said Tim shaking his head. "I got a life here."

"Keep living the way you are and it's going to end here very quickly," said Bruce.

Tim sighed and looked at his steak. "You got any kids?"

Bruce nodded. "I've got an adopted son in college right now."

"Shit, man, you love taking in the young boys that need help? Got a wife?"

"No."

"A girlfriend?"

"Not at the moment."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm own a boxing gym."

"Damn," remarked Tim. "I _knew_ you were into something like that. At first I thought you were gonna do some freaky Tae Bo shit on those guys but you sure is something. Wait, you gonna make me do this boxing too?"

Bruce shrugged. "If you want to."

"I don't."

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

"So…when are you gonna take me?"

"Now."

* * *

"And that was it," said Tim. "I said goodbye to Mobutu, and took all my things and eight hours later I arrived in Jump City. Finished eighth grade with good grades and that summer, I decided to take up boxing. Also got to know Dick pretty well. I'm closer with him than I am with Bruce since…well, I mean, we're both saved from God knows what." He sighed and moved towards the sparring equipment. "So that's my answer." He looked at Garfield and said, "Did you tell your dad that you got cancer?"

Garfield nodded. He hadn't really thought about his father in the past couple of days.

"Y-yea, I wrote him a letter the day after I found out and…well I haven't heard from him yet. I'm actually hoping that he'll show up in town."

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Metropolis," replied Garfield as he put on the headgear. "I've thought of calling him all the time but I wouldn't know what to say."

"Hey, man, just…let's forget about our absent fathers and beat the hell out of each other, OK?"

Garfield smiled. "OK. Beating the hell out of each other sounds good."

* * *

Raven sat on Kori's bed along with her friend. A plate of cookies sat between them.

"And while I was flattered that he did that for me," Raven continued, "I couldn't help but feel so pissed at him. I mean…why did he have to go and do that?"

"Garfield is your friend," said Kori. "Had it been me you went to instead of Garfield, Gavin would be ten feet over."

"Six feet under," corrected Raven. "And I know you would do that but…I can't help that Garfield did it just so I would go out with him."

"Did you promise him that?" asked Kori.

"God, no!"

"Then why would he think that? Anyone who knows you knows that you are not activated by acts of violence to defend your honour."

"When you say, 'activated'…don't you mean, 'turned on'?"

Kori smiled. "That is the term."

Raven sighed. "Kori, you and I are women, females. By far, the smartest species on the planet. Number four on the list is the human male."

Kori remained silent.

"You see," continued Raven, "males impress each other by showing off strength. It's stupid and pointless. The biggest obsession the male has with his body is with his penis."

Kori stifled a laugh.

"Could you take this seriously? Anyway, they can't bear much humiliation and they feel that if they show off their strength to women then they'll just go flying into their arms. Well it doesn't work that way. We care about inner beauty and sometimes it helps if outer beauty is good too."

"So you believe that Garfield went out saying," Kori put on a deep voice, "I'm Garfield Logan. Me big strong man. Me kill man who hurt Raven. Me want lotsa lovin'."

Raven frowned. "That doesn't even come close to sounding like Garfield."

"I know," smiled Kori. "I made it sound like he was having a testosterone overload. I believe that was how you described him earlier."

"Yea," grumbled Raven. "It's just…I want to like him but how do I know that he's going to…God, I don't know what I want. I shouldn't have yelled at him like that. But…why did he have to be such a dumb-ass. Gavin's friends are tough."

"Have you told Garfield this?" asked Kori.

Raven shook her head. "I tried and…we kinda got into a fight. Do you think I should?"  
"You must, Raven. Because if you do not, you will continue to drift apart from him and eventually you two will pass each other on the street one day when you're older and not even acknowledge each other."

Raven was quiet for a moment before saying, "That's pretty good, did you just make that up?"

Kori nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's very dark."

* * *

Garfield felt his gloves connect with Tim's ribs.

"Ha," he triumphed over his mouthpiece.

"'Ucky shot," said Tim.

The electric bell went and the two went back to their separate corners.

"I never asked you this," said Garfield, "but what's your record?"

"25-1," replied Tim. "D'you know Bruce was never offered a shot at the heavyweight title?"

"What was his record?"

"110-5."

Garfield's mouthpiece dropped to the canvas. "That's unbelievable," he exclaimed.

"It never bothered Bruce but he was getting letters from all sorts of people telling him that he was the greatest champion that never was."

"How about that," remarked Garfield. "You think about turning pro?"

"Sometimes," said Tim.

The buzzer went again. The next round started.

Just as Garfield was about to fake a right, the door opened and Bruce came back in.

"Hey, Bruce," greeted Tim cheerfully.

"Great news," said Bruce clapping hands together. "I'm going to have the new equipment brought in here tomorrow."

"Hot damn," said Garfield.

* * *

At four o'clock, Garfield arrived home and collapsed onto the sofa. His felt that the only thing his body could do for the rest of the day was just sleep and watch TV and eat a little bit.

"Hey, mom," he called into the house as he flopped down on the seats.

Sally opened the door to her bedroom and stuck her head out. "Oh, Garfield you're home. Did you have a good time?"

"I always do."

"That's good."

The truth was, Garfield had a really good time because not once did Tim bring up Garfield's cancer afterwards. He could have just to see how he was doing but he didn't. And though he didn't say anything, Garfield was grateful to his friend.

"Garfield," said his mother as she approached from behind. "Would you be all right if I went out tonight?"

Garfield shrugged. "Sure, mom. Do what you want. What're you doing?"

Sally gave a giggle. "Well, I'm going on a date."

Garfield sat up upon hearing this. Now this wasn't the first time Garfield had heard his mother say this but it always caught him off guard.

"Who is he?"

"That doesn't matter," replied his mother. "He's a very nice man and I'm sure you'll like him."

"Where are you going?" asked Garfield. "When is he picking you up?"

Sally gave a content sigh. "Well, he told me earlier this afternoon that he would pick me up at 6PM. Then he would take me out to dinner at a restaurant and then to the movies and that the rest of the evening would be a surprise."

"Mom, I don't like the sounds of this."

Sally smiled. "I know, honey. But here's the thing: I'm the grown up and as long as I'm working my butt off for the city…I'm entitled for some me-time."

Garfield gaped. "Oh, no fair. I used that excuse when I wanted to stay up late to train, and it didn't work."

"I know. It works for me because I'm the adult."

* * *

At 5:45PM, Garfield sat watching a rerun episode of _Lost _on TiVo when he heard a knock at the door.

Curious, since they hadn't been buzzed, Garfield went up and to the door. He stared out the peephole and gave a content sigh. It was just Bruce.

He opened the door and saw Bruce dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans. He smiled at Garfield.  
"Hello, Garfield," he greeted.

"Hey, Bruce." Garfield took a breath in. "You smell nice," he remarked. "New cologne?"

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, yes. Is, um, your mother here?"

_What do you want to see mom for? _Garfield thought._ Besides, she's got a date tonight and-_

"Come on in," he heard his mother call from the bathroom. "I'll be a few minutes."

Garfield gave an open gasp and began pointing at Bruce. "Y-y-you-you're dating my mom?"

Bruce let himself in and closed the door.

"Your mother didn't tell you?" asked Bruce.

"N-no," stammered Garfield.

Bruce smiled and made his way to the sofa. "Not surprised. I didn't even tell Tim or Dick. I mean…I'm sure this must be pretty weird for you."

Garfield sat further down from Bruce. "Uh…yea."

"Do you wish to talk about it with the time we have?" asked Bruce. "I promise that I won't breathe a word of it."

"It's just weird," said Garfield. "Kinda like if your mom starts dating a superhero. It's just…I mean, I already know you and you know me and…it's hard to explain."

"I can imagine," assured Bruce. "I promise you Garfield, I don't plan on becoming a father to you. I'm just a coach and a friend."

"OK…just…take care of her. She deserves the best."

Bruce tapped his chest. "That's why she's dating me, of course."

"Right," chuckled Garfield, uneasily.

"Here I am," declared Sally as she entered the living room.

Bruce and Garfield stood up.

Sally wore a dark red shirt and tight black pants. Over the shirt she wore a black leather coat.

"Hello there," greeted Bruce.

"Hello," Sally greeted back.

Garfield felt nostalgic. It was like watching an old movie where the captain of the football (or in Bruce's case, boxing) team taking out the prettiest girl in school. No 'hey, baby' or 'sexy'. That would've really freaked out Garfield.

"This just looks weird," he said out loud.

"Do you really think so?" asked Sally. "Well, Garfield, at least you know I was right about one thing: Bruce is a very nice man and I already know that you like him."

_Touché, _thought Garfield.

He clapped his hands together. "OK," he said as cheerfully as he could pretend to be. "You two…kids get going, have a good meal, have a good time. And remember," he said to Bruce. "Have her home by midnight."

Sally smiled. "I got dinner for you in the oven."

As they were out the door, Garfield sighed and closed it. But just as the bolt was going to go in the hatch, Bruce propped the door open and said, "Don't worry, Garfield. I promise I'll stop at second base tonight."

With that, Bruce pulled the door shut and laughed as he caught up with Sally.

"What did you say to him?" she asked as she stepped into the elevator.

"Oh, nothing," smiled Bruce. "Just another Mike Tyson joke. You wouldn't get it."

* * *

Tim picked up the receiver and said into it, "If you're selling something, I'm going to hang up."

"Tim," hissed Garfield.

Not knowing what this was about, Tim hissed back, "What, Garfield?" with a bit of humour in his voice.

"Oh, shut up," said Garfield in his normal voice. "Listen…do you know where Bruce went tonight?"

Tim thought about this and then said, "Nope. Never told me. Why, you need him for something?"

"No, I was wondering if you knew who he was going out with?"

"Nope. But when he left the house, I must say, he _did _smell nice."

"So I noticed."

"Huh? How would you know if he smelled nice?"

"Bruce is dating my mom," explained Garfield.

There was silence on the other end. Then five seconds later, Tim burst out laughing.

"Oh, my god," he laughed. "Oh, my god! Bruce is dating your mom! Oh, I'm sorry. How weird that must be for you!"

"No kidding. He didn't tell you?"  
"Nope, didn't tell me or Dick. He usually keeps it a secret the first time."

"Does he…you know, like when they're done their date does he ever…bring them home or…go back to their place?"

"He's not going to do it with your mom on the first date, Garfield," said Tim, like he was expecting to hear that question.

"I-I wasn't thinking that."

"No, because if anyone asked you if you wanted to come in, you would think they wanted you to play _Halo _with them."

* * *

On January 2nd of 2005, Garfield Logan entered the gym and was amazed by the new look of it. There was a bench press machine, a machine that would work the back, new equipment was all over the place. Free weights by the mirrors where the skipping ropes were placed to be alone.

"My god," he said as he started to bench 60.

* * *

It was January 3rd when Garfield went back into the club. As soon as he stepped in, he saw that everyone was there-including Alfred, back from England. After getting changed, Garfield went up to Bruce's office, knocked on the door and after getting permission to come in, entered and shut the door. Garfield felt a certain amount of ease around Bruce since he had taken his mother out two other times. And he always said if he needed to talk about something…

"There's something very important I have to tell you," he said.

Alfred was in the ring doing pad-work with Victor when his telephone rang. He quickly pulled off the gloves and hopped out of the ring. He made it to the telephone and picked up the receiver.

"_Titans Boxing Club_," he greeted. He listened into the receiver and then looked up at the office. "Of course. I'll be up right away." Alfred replaced the receiver and headed on up the stairs towards the office.

"What's going on?" asked Dick as he swung at a heavy bag.

Alfred said nothing. As soon as he was out of sight, everyone looked up towards the office window to see Bruce pull the blinds down.

"What's going on?" asked Raven.

"Don't know," lied Tim. He knew what Garfield was doing.

"Is he in some sort of trouble?" asked Victor.

"I would doubt that very much," said Kori. "Garfield is the last person you would expect to find in trouble."

"Well, whatever it is, we'll find out when we need to," said Dick. "Come on, back to work. Remember we've got fights at the end of the month."

"Yea and some of us need to get rid of the jellyrolls we got from Christmas," joked Victor.

Dick sighed. "I overate just a little bit. What the hell, who cares? I'll still beat their ass."

The door to Bruce's office could be heard and after a few seconds, Bruce, Alfred and Garfield exited the office. Neither of them looked happy at all.

"Listen up," called Bruce as he got on the floor. "I need you all to approach."

_He's moving away, _thought Victor._ That's the only thing it could be._

"I'm afraid I've got some very bad news," explained Bruce. He turned to Garfield. "Would you like to explain it?"

Garfield nodded and stepped forward. "Ahem. OK, um, on November 2nd of last year, I discovered a mark on my stomach that I hadn't really seen before. After a while it didn't go away and I went for testing. Last month, just after my first victory as a Teen Titan, I was diagnosed with skin cancer."

There were gasps through out the gym.

Tim remained silent.

"And because 2005 intends to be an explosive year for _Titans Boxing Club_, I'm here to tell you what my position will be. Today, my mother and I went for treatment options and…" Garfield chocked on his words for a few seconds. "And…we decided that I will be going through chemotherapy sessions. I've been told that I'm going to start at the beginning of next month, so I will be taking part in the Steel City fight." Garfield said this with a smile. "I'm still going to come into the club, I'm still going to train. All I want from you, is your support and your friendship. That's it."

"Are you going to go in for surgery?" asked Dick.

Garfield shrugged his shoulders. "I really can't say. It all depends on how the chemo goes. Now I've told the school and they told me that they're going to take it easy on me but I really don't want that. Just…let's not dwell on it."

"OK," said Bruce. "I know this is a lot to take in so if you don't want to train…don't. Sit here, relax, talk, do whatever."

"Thanks," Garfield said to everyone. He went over to the speed bag mount and began striking the bag.

"He's so calm about it," remarked Dick. "Look at him. It's almost as if he doesn't care."

"It's a pride issue," said Raven. "He doesn't want to appear weak before us. It's just stupid male pride." She walked towards the changing room and went into the bathroom stall.

Sitting on the toilet, she checked to make sure she was alone and then began to silently cry.

* * *

When Alfred finished his pad work with Victor, Tim and Garfield stepped into the ring to spar as Bruce supervised. As he helped Garfield put his gloves on, Bruce said to him, "Your mother never told me. Did anyone else know before?"

"Tim," replied Garfield as he put the mouthpiece in.

"Tim knew?" asked Bruce as he pushed the headgear on.

Garfield nodded and stepped into the ring.

Tim followed.

"Go easy on him," Bruce advised.

As the two fighters tapped gloves together, Garfield muttered loudly enough for Tim to hear, "Don't."

* * *

Kori entered the bathroom very cautiously. "Raven," she called quietly. "Are you feeling ill?"

Raven exited the stall. She sniffed and her eyes were red.

"I wasn't crying" she sniffed. As soon as she saw Kori again, she started to cry.

Kori approached her friend and hugged her. "Friend, you must not let Garfield's ailment cloud your mind."

"I still have feelings for him," sobbed Raven. "I got feelings for him and right now we're not even on speaking terms."

"Then you must fix that," advised Kori. "Speak with Garfield and tell him how you feel. That you wish to salvage your friendship."

"OK…how do I do that?"

"You must take it slowly," said Kori. "Take easy stages."

"Right," said Raven slowly. "Easy stages."

* * *

As Tim rested in his corner for the one minute, Bruce went over quickly and gave him some water.

"I thought I told you to take it easy on him," reminded Bruce.

Tim swallowed. "Tell that to him," he gasped. "Man, his punches are tough today."

Bruce's eyes moved over towards Garfield's corner. The teen had his back to the ring, pounding his gloves together, waiting for more action.

"Good job," said Bruce. "Just work on your right a bit." He walked over to Garfield's corner and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yea," replied Garfield. "Should I be?"

"Yes, but I don't want you to push yourself," said Bruce.

"Look," said Garfield, "I don't want special treatment and I don't want to be treated like an invalid. This is only the first round. If I fall three times during the next round, you can pull me out."

Bruce gave an inner sigh. "Fine."

Garfield didn't fall once.

During the break for the second round, Bruce wiped sweat off around Tim's face. "He's really putting the pressure on today," remarked Bruce. "You look like you've just come out of a steam room."

"Yea," sighed Tim. He gestured towards Garfield. "He's kind of the same way."

Sweat dripped from Garfield's nose.

"Sorry if I seem like I'm treating you differently," said Bruce as he wiped it away. "I just can't believe that this is happening."

"I know," said Garfield. "It actually looks like Tim is going to fall over. All from my punches."

"You know what I'm talking about," said Bruce. "Are you going to do the Steel City fight?"

Garfield nodded. "It'll be my last one for a while. But if it is, I can say I retired with a perfect record."

At the end of the spar, Garfield and Tim both thought that they were going to collapse. Just as both of them had removed their equipment, Alfred came by with a digital camera. It was known that Alfred often carried a camera around and took pictures of the boxers when they were fighting, exercising or just laying around.

"Hold it right there," he exclaimed. He looked at the screen and then frowned at the boys.

"Oh, that looks boring," he complained. "Make a pose, raise a fist, do something."

Garfield raised his left fist over his chest where his heart would be. Tim looked at the action and copied it.

"That's better," said Alfred as he took the picture.

Garfield sighed. "I don't care what anybody says," he told Tim. "That was the best spar I ever had."

"Oh yea," agreed Victor. "Man, Gar, you could kill someone with gloves on yo' hands."

Garfield smiled. "I aim to please," he said as he walked over to the speed bag stand and began striking it.

Tim walked over and watched. "So," he said, "what made you decide to tell?"

Garfield shrugged. "Figured I would have to tell sometime. Besides, it's out in the open and I feel better about it. My mom told the school so expect lots of cancer talks and rumours."

"Yea, well…I hope you don't think I was taking it easy on you in there."

"No, you gave it your all," said Garfield. "I know that you'd give me nothing less than your best."

Tim patted Garfield on the back. "That's right. 'Cause you would be exactly the same way if our places were switched." He laughed. "You're my _Luva Irmao_."

Garfield stopped the speed bag and looked at Tim. "I'm your what?"

"_Luva Irmao_," repeated Tim.

Giving a look like he had just been told he had entered the Twilight Zone, Garfield carefully asked, "And what does that mean?"

Tim shook his head. "Not telling."

Garfield looked at the other gym occupants and then back at Tim. Quietly he asked, "That's not like, you know, a pet name…is it?"

Tim laughed. "Trust me, it's not a pet name."

"It doesn't mean 'boy toy' or 'guy slut' either?"

"Trust me."

* * *

"Is it French?" asked Garfield as he stepped out of the shower and applied his towel.

"No this is Axe," said Tim as he sprayed his armpits.

"French people don't use deodorant," argued Victor.

"I'm talking about that _Luva Irmao _thing. Vic, you know what it means?"

"I think Tim told me it means, 'boy with unusually small penis'. Now since I don't look, I'll have to take Tim's word for it 'cause that boy looks more often than he should."

Garfield put his hand on the knot of his towel. "Trust me, Vic, I pull this out and you'd probably get a mouthful."

Victor laughed. "Hey, man, that's good."

* * *

The phone in the kitchen was ringing again. Garfield put down his textbook and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Garfield."

Raven. This was unexpected. The whole fiasco between them had remained quiet to mostly others but it was fresh in their memories.

"Hey," he said quickly and quietly.

"Hey," she said back with the same length.

"So…"

"I was a bitch," said Raven quickly. "I was thinking that you went out and did what you did simply because you thought I'd be impressed."

"You thought wrong," said Garfield coldly.

"Believe me, I know that. I…assumed you were just like Gavin and that you were going to do something stupid to get my attention. I'm sorry."

"OK."

"No, it's not OK. Please, accept my apology."

"OK," repeated Garfield.

Raven sighed. "You can't just say 'OK'. Say you accept my apology."

"Why? Doesn't OK cover it?"

Raven sighed again. "Fine, OK covers it."

"So…" said Garfield. "Where does that leave us?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What are we…friends? More than friends? Last time I checked…I did ask if you would want to go out with me."

"I'm not ready for another relationship, Garfield," Raven said sadly. "I just go out of one that was full of deception and lust and I don't want to get into one where I feel like I'm trying to compensate for the things I wanted out of Gavin."

Garfield's stomach and throat went dry. She was going to say the dreaded 'F' word. He was almost certain he could feel his genitals withering against the cold reality of life.

"Friends then?" he squeaked, making sure she wouldn't get a chance to say it.

"Yea…I think I'd rather be that."

* * *

Life at school was nothing that anybody would want to get into after a nice two week vacation. It meant that it was back to work and that the end of the semester was coming soon. It also meant one thing: Final Exams.

It also meant something to Garfield. The secret was let out. Principal Torres had gone on the PA and announced that a student by the name of Garfield Logan had skin cancer and would be undergoing treatment and that he would appreciate any prayers and encouraging comments to help him get through this troubling time.

_He forgot to mention cash money, _thought Garfield.

* * *

At his locker, Garfield got out his lunch bag and made his way down the hall.

"Gar," called Tim from the other end, "where you going?"

"I got something to take care of," explained Garfield. "I'll see you later."

* * *

"What does he mean he'll see us later?" asked Victor. "He brings tapioca pudding every Monday and now I can't trade with him 'cause he ain't here. And I love tapioca."

"Yea, where's Kori?" Tim asked Raven.

Raven bit into her tuna fish sandwich. "She's got an audition," she explained. "The school is doing their annual theatre show and she wants to be in it."

"I didn't know she was into that," said Tim.

"Yea. She's taking the drama course next semester."

"Well figures Gar went out," said Victor. "I mean, he's one of those…what do you call those guys who…you know, they sing and act and they do all that stuff on stage?"

"Actors," answered Raven.

"Not that. I mean, he does it but he ain't…gay."

"Amazing," said Raven. "Once again, Garfield isn't a regular stereotype of a male on stage and fails to be defined as a homosexual. Maybe we should find out if he likes _Will and Grace._"

"Will's hot," said Tim. He bit his tongue and quickly corrected himself. "I mean Grace is. I don't watch the show-"

"Right," said Raven slowly.

"It was a slip of the tongue," explained Tim. "I'm not gay."

"Slip of the tongue, my ass," said Victor.

The sound of footsteps came close and Garfield came zooming down the hall. He slid on his shoes and stopped before the three. He pointed to them and sang to them loudly, "Jesus!"

"No, my name's Victor. Like, I am the victor of every fight I'm in. But if you wanna call me Jesus, go right ahead. Ain't far from the truth."

"No, no," said Garfield. "That's my line!"

"You have _one line_?" asked Tim.

"No, but that's like my main line."

"Ah," said Raven. "And…you are…?"

Garfield smiled. "Judas Iscariot."

"Judas…Judas," mused Victor. "Wait…wasn't he the one who _betrayed_ Jesus?"

The smile remained on Garfield's face. "Yea. We meet ever Wednesday at lunch for practice."

"Cool," said Victor. "Did you bring tapioca?"

Before Garfield could reach into his lunch bag to trade his dessert for a brownie, Kori came waltzing down the hall.

"How'd it go?" asked Garfield.

Kori latched onto him in a hug. "A glorious day," she declared. "I am Mary."

"The female lead," explained Garfield as they sat down.

"Oh, so you're playing the mother of Christ," said Tim.

"No," said Kori. "I am playing Mary Magdalene."

"Mary Magdalene the _prostitute_?" exclaimed Raven.

Tim began to laugh into his throat and Victor began to stifle a laugh.

"Yes," she replied.

"Now's your chance to move in on her," Victor whispered to Tim.

* * *

In the middle of the month, the stress of exams was starting to get to people. However to those at the boxing club, all worries of exams came secondary. When they were in the gym, all their worries seemed to just vanish until they exited the four walls of the club.

"Yo, BB," called Victor from the heavy bag. "Come here."

Garfield moved away from the stair-master and moved towards his friend.  
"You-uh…you're good at history, right?"

Garfield nodded.

"Uh, look, I got the exam next week and…I'm not good at…remembering dates and stuff like that. Do you…_can you_ help me out?"

Without hesitation, Garfield smiled and said, "Sure. Do you want to do it today when we're done?"

Victor's face lit up. "Y-yea. That'd be good. I'll drive you to my place and you know we'll hit the books." He smiled and punched the heavy bag. "Now I can get my mom off my ass."

* * *

"You never been to my house, have you, B?" asked Victor.

"No," replied Garfield. "I haven't."

"You'll like my mom, she's nice to people who are nice to me."

As they pulled into the driveway of Victor's house, a large dark man could be seen coming from the backyard with a shovel.

"Hey, Pop," Victor greeted his father. "This here's Gar Logan. He's gonna help me with my history."

"Hello there, Gar," greeted Mr. Stone, sounding almost like Chef from _South Park_.

"Hello, sir," Garfield greeted back.

Inside, Mrs. Stone was preparing dinner.

"Victor," she said in a stern tone as soon as she saw her son's company, "you know I told you, you ain't allowed to have friends over until the exams are done."

"Chilax, mom, this is Garfield. Dude's here to help me study." He looked over at Garfield and said to him. "I told her you were coming earlier but she's got this whole thing about white people."

Mrs. Stone laughed. "I do not have anything against white people."

"It's true," said Victor. "She don't. But every once in a while she just storm home and shout about how the crazy cracker's ain't gonna keep her down."

* * *

At dinner, Mrs. Stone served _ministroni _soup from a large pot.

"So, Garfield," said Mr Stone. "Victor tells me that you have cancer?" The tone was casual but it contained concern.

Garfield looked at Mr Stone. He was a man you could tell was in his 40's. He had a beard and all his hair was intact on his head, unlike his son's. He wore a small pair of glasses on a chain around his neck.

"Skin cancer," clarified Garfield.

Mrs Stone gasped. She reminded Garfield on Condoleezza Rice but with longer hair and no gap between the teeth. Almost Angela Bassett like.

"That's awful," she said. "How are your parents handling it?"

Victor's lips suddenly stretched thin as if he was tying to tell his mother something.

She doesn't know it' s only me and mom, thought Garfield.

"My mom…was a bit struck with grief at first. She kept saying it was her fault but she's doing better."

"What about your father?"

"He…he's not around," said Garfield.

Victor raised his eyebrows at his mother to show his frustration over her asking that question.

"And…how is that going for you?" asked Mr Stone.

Garfield swallowed another spoonful of the soup. "It's doing what it's doing."

"You're really calm about all this," observed Mrs. Stone.

"You have to be," said Garfield as he stirred his soup. "You can't panic over a little skin cancer."

"Well maybe you can't," said Mr. Stone, "but for a lot of people they just seem…more on edge."

Garfield gave a small chuckle. "Well that's what I was like before I started boxing. Scared of my own shadow; getting nervous when strangers gazed my way. I mean, I used to get my butt beat everyday at my old school and I knew that something had to change. Hence why I took up boxing last November. Something had to change and that was me. Luckily I decided to take up boxing instead of a nasty drug habit."

* * *

After dinner, Victor escorted Garfield up to his room.

Victor turned on the light and illuminated the dark room. There were science fiction movie posters all over the wall. The one that caught Garfield's an attention the most was a poster for the original Terminator movie. There were models of space cruisers on shelves-one from Star Wars and another from Star Trek.

"Didn't know you liked sci-fi so much."

Victor laughed sheepishly. "Uh…yea."

"I like the poster," said Garfield as he sat on the floor.

Victor pulled his history books out of his backpack. "Now you know why I call myself 'Cyborg'."

"Right then," said Garfield. "Let's get down to business. What's troubling you so much in history."

Victor winced, almost like he couldn't stand to hear about his own ignorance.

"It's, like, I can't really remember the names and all that. I mean…I can go over this a thousand times but it just turns up blank in my head."

"OK," said Garfield. "I want you to do something. Know how all these movies coming out these days are about real people?"

"Yea?"

"Well, I want you to…_visualize_ that history is a movie in your mind. Do you get what I'm saying."

Victor frowned. "Yea…but why don't you explain it for me just so I know I got it."

Garfield smiled. "OK…let's say…Julius Caesar is played by Frank Sinatra, Cleopatra is played by Liz Taylor and Marc Anthony is played by…Richard Burton."

"OK," said Victor, "I'm starting to get it. But can we use stars that I actually _know about_?"

* * *

Two hours later, Garfield still sat in front of Victor on the floor.

"How about the civil rights movement?" asked Garfield.

"Halley Berry as Rosa Parks, Denzel Washington as Malcolm X and…Eddie Murphy as Martin Luther King."

Garfield smiled. "Good, now give me the plot."

Plot was the basic keyword for what had happened.

Victor gave it.

With a concerned tone, Garfield said, "Vic, I think we have a problem."

Victor's eyes went wide. "W-what's that?"

Garfield smiled. "You don't need me anymore. I think that if we continue this every night for a few days…you'll be ready for your exam."

* * *

A few weeks later, Victor Garfield stepped into his history class and sat down at his desk.

"You know the rules about exams," said the teacher, Mr Harrison. "If I see anyone cheating I will make it my life's purpose to see you collecting a pension from Burger King when you retire."

His other classes he had no worries but this was the one where it mattered the most. His parents had vowed that if he failed history he would have to stop boxing until the second semester midterms came out-then they would consider it.

Victor put his hands together.

Hello, God. It's me…Victor. I know I'm not the best person. And I know that the closest I get to church is the adult video store two blocks away…oh God, I shouldn't have said that. Uh, anyway, please let me remember everything Gar helped me with…and I'll be sure to stay get a little closer to the church.

"Mr. Stone," said Mr Harrison as he dropped the exam on his desk, "praying is forbidden in a public school. Now either start writing or perform your exorcism elsewhere."

"Dickhead," whispered Victor.

"What did you say!"

"I said I have a big head."

"Oh…well I've seen bigger."

* * *

Two days later, Victor returned to school to receive his marks. He was three for four so far. All that was left now was history.

Dun dun dunnnn

"I have nothing to say about your exams," said Mr Harrison. "Some were good. Others at times were trying to rewrite history." He said this looking at Victor. "I'll call you up, pick up your exam, and your mark and then never enter this class again unless it's to give me a donut."

It always was a wait for Victor when teachers did things in alphabetical order.

"Mr. Stone," said Harrison.

Victor stood up and slowly walked towards the desk. Harrison handed the exam to him face down and showed Victor his mark.

"You made it up to a 70, Mr Stone. Congratulations on your mark."

Victor turned the test over. In red letters was the letter '100' and the words, 'In the future, try not to worry about physical appearance.'

"Thank you," whispered Victor, almost paralyzed with shock.

I passed. Oh thank you, God!

Victor exited the classroom quietly and as soon as he closed the door and was in the hallway, did he feel secure enough to scream like a woman who won a new car on _The Price is Right._

"OHMYGODTHANKYOUJESUSGODALLMIGHTY!" He began to dance in the hallway. "Whoo! One hundred freakin' percent! In your face, History!"

He ran down the hallway towards the stairwell and raced down to the second floor to where Garfield was waiting by his locker with Tim. It seemed the girls had yet to show up.

"How'd you-WHOA, WHAT THE HELL?" cried Garfield as Victor came bounding down the stairs and jumped up into Garfield. And while Garfield was strong, there was no way that a featherweight could hold a welterweight. They came crashing down but that didn't stop Victor from celebrating from where he was.

"I beat it!" cried Victor. "I don't have a mark on my face, I upset the history class and I just got a hundred percent on my history exam! I MUST BE THE GREATEST!"

"That's fine," grumbled Garfield. "Could you get off me? My stomach's caving in!"

Before Victor could comply, Raven and Kori came around the corner and saw the larger teen on top of the smaller teen.

"This is one of those 'Don't ask, don't tell' times, isn't it?"

"I tried to tell them about keeping it in the bedroom but they just couldn't hold themselves back," said Tim.

There was a audio buzz through the air and then the voice of the principal filled the air, "Timothy Drake and Victor Stone, please report to room 102. Room 102."

"They better not accuse my ass of cheating," said Victor.

* * *

Tim and Victor sat in front of the guidance counsellor and the principal in the office of the former.

"It seems we have a problem with you gentlemen," said the guidance counsellor, Mr. Torres.

"Well, actually, sir," said Victor, "I got the cream yesterday and it said that my problems would be gone in two to three days."

"Can it, Stone," barked the principal, Mr. Forest.

"It seems that you two are missing a crucial credit to graduate," explained Mr. Torres.

"What?" gasped Victor.

"You're kidding me," said Tim.

"I don't kid," growled Mr. Forest.

"Yes," continued Mr. Torres. "It seems you're missing the art credit which is required to graduate. Now, luckily for you, there are courses available. There's the Grade 12 music course…do any of you play music?"

"I _listen_ to it," offered Victor.

"What else is there?" asked Tim.

"Do any of you draw?"

"No."

Mr. Torres sighed. "Well that only leaves the dramatic arts course. You can either take it or leave it."

Tim's head snapped up. "Wait, is Garfield Logan in that class?"

Mr. Torres raised an eyebrow and looked at the list.

"Yes."

"We'll take drama," said Tim.

"We will?" asked Victor.

"We will."

"I would like to take drama as well," said Victor.

* * *

"Why are we taking drama?" asked Victor as they exited the office.

"Garfield is some drama genius," explained Tim. "Even if we don't know what the hell we're doing, Gar can explain it for us. I mean, he did it for you with History, right?"

"Little grass stain is a miracle worker," agreed Victor.

"Grass stain?"

Victor shrugged. "His trunks are green, like a grass stain. Plus when he wears them he almost seems to turn green himself."

Tim sighed. "I think you need to lay off the weed."

* * *

On January 28th, Garfield Logan arrived at the club with his friends with all his gear in his bag.

"Steel City, here we come," called Victor as he entered the gym.

"How're we all getting there?" asked Garfield.

"Kori and I are going in my car," explained Raven.

"Alfred and Bruce are already there at the hall, helping set up. So I'm just going to lock up here and then we're going to take my car."

Dick's car was a blue 97 Eagle Vision. Tim rode shotgun while Victor and Garfield sat in the back.

"Let's get going," said Dick as he turned the key into the ignition.

As soon as the engine turned over, the sound of hip-hop filled the air.

"Is this…?" began Garfield.

"Oh my God," laughed Tim.

"Will Smith?" asked Victor.

Sure enough Will Smith's _Miami _filled the car with noise.

"It's not…" Dick sighed. "All right. I like Will Smith's music."

Victor laughed. "Will Smith's cool and all it's just….you never hear some twenty four year old white guy listen to his music."

Dick went to turn it off but Tim swatted his hand away. "No, no. We're going to listen to this the whole way."

"Why?" asked Dick. "You'll look dumb coming up to a boxing gym with Will Smith pounding out of the speakers."

"But dumb is fun…sometimes."

* * *

Steel City Boxing Club was on a street that was notorious for prostitution and drug houses. However the club was a beacon of sanctuary for those who wished to escape the mean streets.

Once inside the boys met up with Kori and Raven in front of a large table that held many boxer books.

"There's Bruce," observed Tim.

Sure enough, Bruce was standing at the ring shaking the ropes making sure that they were stable.

"Scale's over there," observed Dick.

Garfield tossed his book on the matchmakers desk and moved towards the scale.

Garfield undressed closely to the scale and waited in line with the other nearly-naked fighters. There were Irish kids with freckled backs and Italian teens with the baby faces complete with baby fat which hadn't gone away after puberty. Most of them were wearing either briefs or boxer briefs. Garfield wasn't a fan of either of the two because he felt he needed space and wore a pair of _Family Guy_ boxers which featured Brian with his back to the viewer, peeing on a fire hydrant and saying, 'Do you mind?'

"Always gotta wear something festive over your junk, eh BB?" asked Victor who had just pulled off his pants to be left in only a wife beater and grey boxer briefs. Once again, the shirt on Victor's chest looked too small.

"Do you have trouble finding clothes that fit?" asked Garfield.

"Huh?"

"All your shirts when you work out look too small."

Victor leaned towards Garfield. "It's a whole intimidation thing. Make it look like I'm so big. This shirt is about one size too small."

"You scare them?"

Victor nodded. "It works."

"Next," called the official.

Garfield stepped on the scale and welcomed the body heat to his feet from the other fighters.

"One hundred thirty pounds," remarked the official.

"You fat," joked Victor.

Garfield stepped off the scale and redressed. Heading back to the table, he saw Bruce looking over the other fighters books.

"How would you feel about fighting a person with two fights?" Bruce asked him.

Garfield shrugged. "I'd be fine with that."

"How about three?"

Garfield frowned. "Three? How many did he win?"

"Only two."

Garfield inhaled through his mouth. "Just…just give me someone you think would be right. I don't care who it is. I have faith."

Bruce smiled. "Good."

Victor came back to the table smiling. "One forty five…how sweet it is."

"Victor, I've found a fight for you. He's your age too. Simply known as Gizmo."

Victor frowned at Bruce. "Gizmo? That's kinda a dumb name."

"This coming from the one named Cyborg."

"Fine. Pair me with him but I'll whoop him!"

Just as Garfield was about to walk away and look around the gym, Bruce pulled him by the collar.

"Ow!"

"Here we go," he said not caring about Garfield's neck.

Garfield looked into the small picture in the fighter's book. He had shoulder length black hair and his eyes were so dark blue that they could have been black. While Garfield could see that his first name was Garth, he couldn't see the last name.

"Name is Aqualad," said Bruce. "Three fights. He's perfect for you."

Garfield studied the picture.

"Aqualad? Huh, it sounds weird but what the hell." He looked at Bruce and smiled. "Aqualad it is."

* * *

Tim was matched with a fighter nicknamed Speedy.

"I've heard of him," Tim told Garfield as they sat in the seats with Victor who was listening to his CD-player with his eyes closed.

"Really?"

"Yea. I heard he's good. _Really_ good. We've got the same record."

"And you've never fought before?"

"Nope."

"So…why are you so keen on fighting him?"

Tim looked at Garfield. "I don't know. I've just…always been on a mission to win ever since my first fight-the one I lost."

"It's a whole proving yourself thing?"

"Right. Where is he?" His eyes moved around the gym and stopped on Raven, who was sitting cross legged in a small little corner. She seemed to be chanting something.

"What is she doing?"

Garfield looked at Raven. "Oh, she told me about that yesterday. She meditates as much as she can before a fight. Get rid of the whole negative energy thing. Personally I think it's a bit hippy but what can you do?"

"You could pop a balloon right next to her," joked Dick as he sat next to the teens. "If she wasn't so tough in the ring I'd swear she was one of those skinny PETA freaks."

"PETA is alright," said Garfield. "I don't like to see animals mistreated. But that doesn't mean that I'm not gonna eat a hamburger or something. I think the animal would be happy to know that in it's death, it could feed me."

Bruce approached the boys. "Garfield, your match the third on the card tonight. So if you want, go change and then come out here so we can get warm.

'Get warm' was a term that simply meant to warm up before a fight. Bruce would do some pad work and then it would be show time.

Garfield entered the changing room, took off his jacket, shirt and after examining himself in the mirror, pulled his trunks out of his duffel bag and slipped them on after taking off his jeans, boxers and putting on his jockstrap. Bruce came in a second later and began massaging the joints of Garfield's fingers.

"You can be quite gentle when you want to be," joked Garfield.

"Your mother said the exact same thing," Bruce replied. When he was finished he took out Garfield's wraps and began wrapping his fists.

"Are you nervous?" asked Bruce. "Afraid of this Aqualad character?"

"No way," replied Garfield. "Never fear. I feel mostly the pressure."

As Garfield said this, the shirtless Aqualad walked into the changing room with his trainer. They began talking quietly as he wrapped his hands.

Bruce slipped on the gloves and he and Garfield stepped out of the changing room. As he was leaving, Garfield looked and saw the dark eyes of Aqualad following him.

Bruce slipped on the pad mitts on and stood before Garfield.

"Go," he called.

Garfield stuck the pads with great speed. Every once and a while Bruce would swing his arm out as if he was an opponent trying to strike him. Garfield managed to avoid him.

Just as they were getting into it, Bruce was called over by one of the judges.

"Victor, take over," ordered Bruce.

"Come on," said Victor as he encouraged Garfield to hit the pad. "Jab, jab, jab. Alright, let me see that three. Good, I know you're ready for this, baby. You're man, that's just a kid you're going against."

"Right," said Garfield as he ducked under Victor's arm.

"You gonna give us a KO?"

"If I can. If not I'll just beat him until he's bleeding from every inch on his body."

"That's it. Show that attitude. Release the beast!"

With Victor's help, Garfield slipped on his Teen Titan shirt and stood waiting for Bruce and Alfred.

Raven approached. "You look good," she said.

Garfield began to bob up and down lightly on his feet.

"Thanks," he smiled. "Done meditating?"

Raven nodded. "I've done as much as I can. I think I'm prepared, spiritually and mentally."

"What exactly do you…_do_ when you're meditating?"

"I chant."

"What do you chant?"

"It's…something my mom wrote about to me when she first left."

Garfield stopped bobbing. "Whoa…I didn't know your mom was alive."

"She is, but she's never around. She's an anthropologist and she goes out a couple times a year to visit this culture. She left around the time you came to the club."

"So what about the chant?"  
"Well, this village is called Azarath and they do this three word chant: Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

"Hippies," muttered Victor.

"Anyway, that's what they chant when they're about to go on some great journey that requires physical strength. I don't get it but it works for me. Keeps me in check."

Bruce approached Garfield. "You're up. You ready?"

Garfield smiled. "You know I am."

Bruce lead the way, followed by Garfield and Alfred. Bruce sat on the ropes, giving Garfield space to enter and easier access for the older man to enter.

"Introducing," announced a woman from the ringside table, "from Titans Boxing Club in Jump City, he's wearing green trunks, he weighs one thirty. Here is Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan."

There were small cheers for Garfield since he was in unknown territory, however his friends were as loyal to him as always.

"His opponent, from the Steel City Boxing Club, he's wearing blue trunks. He weighs, one thirty three. Here is Garth 'Aqualad'-"

There was too much cheering for Garfield to hear his last name. And while he may have found this intimidating, he remembered how well Adonis had been received at the high school. With the proper headgear on and the mouthpieces between their teeth, the two fighters stepped forward.

"All right, boys," instructed the referee, "I want a good clean fight. If a fighter goes down you are to go to a neutral corner. Shake hands and came out fighting at the bell."

Garfield returned to his corner where Bruce gave him some last minute advice.

"His right jab is pretty slow," advised Bruce. "Sneak around it and give it 1-6-1."

"Right," said Garfield.

The bell rang and both fighters came out charging.

Aqualad struck Beast Boy on the nose with a left and went to follow with the slow right jab which he ducked.

Got you!

Beast Boy popped back up and slammed the combination into Aqualad. The final left jab he shot into his face and knocked Aqualad into the canvas.

The referee quickly came over and shouted at Beast Boy to go to a neutral corner.

The count got to five when Aqualad got back up.

"Box," commanded the ref.

They continued to trade punches among each other. Beast Boy could feel the sweat all over his body and his body was getting hotter and hotter. Finally the bell came to end the round.

Bruce sprayed water into Beast Boy's mouth.

"Good job," said Bruce.

Beast Boy opened his mouth and spit out the water. He began to breathe deeply.

Bruce looked at him. "You feel hot?"

"Y-yes."

Bruce picked up the water bottle while Alfred rubbed Vaseline over Beast Boy's face.

"Close your eyes," said Bruce as he twisted off the top of the bottle.

"Wait-what're you doing?" asked Beast Boy.

Bruce pulled the waistline of Beast Boy's trunks and poured the water down onto his crotch.

Garfield's lips enveloped and he let out a small cry of discomfort.

"Relax," said Bruce. "Watch his left uppercut. I've noticed that he likes that a lot and when he got you in the ribs he hurt you a lot."

"Seconds out," called the ref.

"Get mad, BB," shouted Victor. "Release the damn beast already!"

The bell rang and Beast Boy charged out again. Aqualad swung out a left hook, catching Beast Boy in the ribs once again, but unwittingly leaving his face open for assault.

Beast Boy shot out his fists as fast as he could. Soon blood was spilling out of Aqualad's nose. An uppercut landed right under his chin, knocking the long haired boy down on the canvas.

There was the sound of a whistle and Beast Boy was instantly pulled away from Aqualad by the referee. He walked back to his corner where Bruce and Alfred stared at him in shock.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" panted Beast Boy.  
"Go in one round and in the next round you beat the hell out of him."

The bell rang and Beast Boy raised his hands in victory. "I'm that good."

"The winner by a technical knockout," called the ring announcer, "Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan!"

The crowd cheered a little louder but his friends were even louder with their cheering and whooping.

Beast Boy walked towards Aqualad's corner and hugged the long haired teen. The blood had been wiped clean from his face.

"Good job," said Aqualad.

Beast Boy returned to his corner and stepped out of the ring.

After pulling off the headgear and pulling off the gloves, Garfield went over to his friends.

"Great job," congratulated Raven.

"A truly glorious knockout," declared Kori.

"You showed Pretty Boy who's boss," crowed Victor.

"That kicked ass," said Dick.

"Once again," said Tim, "_Luva Irmao _wipes the floor."

Bruce patted Garfield on the shoulder. "Go shower and get back out here. Victor's match is up in two."

"Right," said Garfield. As he entered the locker room, he found that seemed a lot dirtier than when he entered. Perhaps he was just thinking about his match too much to notice the filth and grime but right now it didn't matter.

He pulled off his Teen Titan shirt-sticky with sweat and after slipping off his shoes and socks, pulled his towel out of his gym bag.

As he pulled off his trunks and jockstrap, a voice behind him said, "It's bad enough that you beat me but now you got to moon me too?"

Garfield quickly snatched the towel and wrapped it around his exposed ass and his front. He turned around to see who the peeping tom was only to find it was Aqualad.

"Oh…sorry. I-I wasn't mooning you."

Aqualad smiled. "Relax, I know you weren't mooning me. But Holy crap, that was a hell of a punch you laid on me. I thought my nose would never stop bleeding. I'm just glad that was my first loss."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Garfield sighed. "I seem to be handing out plenty of those."

Aqualad sighed as well. "Well, anybody who can make Garth the Aqualad bleed that bad deserves to win." Garth extended his hand.

Garfield took it and shook it.

* * *

It was another clean sweep for Titans Boxing Club that night. Kori and Raven both won their fights by unanimous decision. Dick, like Garfield, had beaten his opponent into a technical knockout. Victor won by disqualification. His opponent, Gizmo, was one of those boxers who liked to keep punching after the referee told them to break. While it was a victory for Victor, he was most upset about it. He wanted a fight.

The last fight for the Titans was Tim's bout against Speedy.

Garfield watched closely and saw why he was called Speedy. His fists moved so fast it was almost impossible to see how many punches he had thrown. And while it was a good match, Tim had barely won.

The ride home was full of talk between the guys about fighting, girls, sex and any other topic they could come up with that would have all of them in interest.

"A hot tub," said Victor.

"You wouldn't want to do it in a hot tub?" asked Dick.

"No," said Victor. "Don't need all that water in the way. I mean we can fool around in there for a while and do some freaky shit there but I like my business to be done in the bedroom."

"OK, Gar, what's the one place you wouldn't want to do it?" asked Dick.

"Uh…a closet."

"A closet?"

"They're confining. I would like to have some space."

"That's true," agreed Tim. "I mean, you want to be comfortable. Plus you don't see anything in a closet. I'd want to have sex in a big room with a mirror on the ceiling."

General hilarity.

"So, Gar," asked Dick, "like, I don't know how to go about this gently but, are you still going to do boxing when you're in chemo?"

The ride went silent, other than the sound of the car on the road.

"I'll do my best," Garfield answered.

"Yeah, but what does that mean?"

"It means that I will box as long as I have the strength. I won't have my normal strength so I won't be entering any fights or sparring. But I'll still do the exercises, hit the heavy bag, the speed bag. But I'm not going to be the same."

Dick processed the information carefully. "Well…when do you go?"

"Five days from now."

"Are you going to lose weight?"

"Yea, they warned against that."

Dick slammed on the breaks and made a quick sharp turn to the right.

"Where are we going?" asked Tim.

"We're going to get our short friend here really fat," smiled Dick.

"W-what?" asked Garfield.

"If you looked a bit older I would take you guys to a strip club but I don't got any fake ID's but I suppose this will do for now."

* * *

Downtown Jump City did have some late night ice cream bars that stayed up late for the night owl who had a craving for one of fifty-two flavours. Dick put his money down and paid for milkshakes, root-beer floats, sundaes, banana splits and all other ice cream concoctions. An hour and a half later, the four of them emerged from the store, Garfield holding his stomach and looking sick while the others looked perfectly fine. While they had stuffed Garfield solid with sugar, the rest of them watched what they ate and simply enjoyed watching their friend eat like a pig.

"Dudes…" moaned Garfield, "I don't feel well."

"I think he's had enough for tonight," said Tim. He checked his watch and it was well past midnight. "I bet his mom thinks we ditched him in Steel City. Or a strip club."

Just as they were about to step back into the car, Garfield stopped.

"Oh, God," he said.

"What is it?" asked Dick.

"Oh, God."

"What?" asked Tim.

"Oh, good God!"

"I think something's coming out," said Victor, "but I don't know which end it's coming out of."

"I'M GONNA BARF!" screamed Garfield. He ran across the street and while trying to reach a garbage pail, he stopped and vomited on the street.

"That dude is so wasted," observed a twenty something who was emerging from around a corner with his girlfriend.

"He's gonna kill us for this later," said Tim.

"Yea," agreed Dick. "But it's funny."

* * *

On Thursday, February 3rd, 2005, Garfield Logan left his home-he would have taken the bus from school but a large snowstorm had kept students out of school since Monday, keeping them from the next semester-to take a bus to his chemotherapy session. As he entered the building he could feel the nervousness in his body.

"Today was the day, wasn't it?" asked Raven.

Tim nodded. "He told me yesterday that he was going to go no matter what the weather was like."

Five minutes later, Garfield entered the gym. He looked physically drained but he came out of the changing room and began to work the floor.

"Seems all right," whispered Victor to Tim.

* * *

But over the next few weeks, Garfield seemed to look weaker and weaker. Every Monday and Wednesday, he and Kori would miss lunch with the others to go to rehearsal and Kori later told Raven in private that Garfield-despite an excellent voice-was losing energy.

* * *

It was the third week of February when Garfield came in looking white as a ghost. He went into the change room but did not emerge for ten minutes. It was then that the sound of retching could be heard.

Dick entered the bathroom to find Garfield collapsed near a toilet with his head above the bowl.

"How you holding up?" he asked, knowing it was the worst question to ask.

Garfield responded by throwing up again.

"Look," said Dick, sitting down on the bench, "I know this isn't the best time but this is the time I'm going to use. I am a dick. Not like my name, but like the term. I have been a dick to you and you didn't even know it. I made gay jokes about you behind your back and…I…"

Garfield coughed and spat into the toilet. He then chuckled.

"What's so funny?" asked Dick. "I tell you that I've been bashing you behind your back and you find time to laugh."

"You said you were being a dick," chuckled Garfield. "And that's your name. You were being a you."

He began to laugh uncontrollably.

From that day on, Garfield didn't exercise at all. Bruce brought out a cot for Garfield to sleep on. When asked why he didn't go home and rest, Garfield replied that he's rather be watching his friends workout than TV.

"This is more rewarding than you'll ever know," he said before falling asleep.

That day was also the day that Alfred released a rough draft of the book he was making. It seemed that the pictures he was constantly taking had found their way into the pages along with quotes from all the boxers and little stories about them.

* * *

It was two days later that Garfield announced that he was quitting chemotherapy and going to in for surgery to get rid of the cancer and would have to stay a week before for observation.

The Friday that Garfield was supposed to go in, he went to the gym with Victor while Tim remained behind, telling them that he had some stuff to take care off.

An announcement had been made earlier in the school day for students to send their prayers to Garfield. The three boys and the girls all had classes together-including co-ed gym and they all saw their friend get encouragement from the students who offered it.

* * *

Garfield sat on the cot and watched everyone else as they worked. He missed working.

Work, he thought. _That's what I think of this. I punch the hell out of people and I call it work. _

he thought. 

He checked his watch and saw that it was almost four and Tim still hadn't shown up yet.

"Vic, you know where Tim is?" he asked.

Victor stopped skipping rope and looked at his friend. "Nah, man. Last time I saw him was just as school ended."

"Yea, he said he had to take care of something but you think he'd be back by now."

"I know, dawg. Hope he's alright."

Tim stepped into the confessional booth and allowed the darkness to take him in.

"Forgive me, Father, for I…well…I've done a lot of sins. And I mean a _lot_ of sins, but I'm not here to talk about that."

There was a pause from the either side of the booth. "I see," said an older, gentle voice. "Then what are you here for?"

Tim rubbed his forehead. "I've-uh-got a problem and right now…the only person I can turn to is God."

"Well, let me say that you've made the right choice to deal with your problem," replied the priest. "What's your problem?"  
"I-I got this friend. I met him a couple of months ago at a boxing club," began Tim. "And I…to be honest I've grown attached to him as a friend. People have been telling me that ever since he showed up and started training, that I've been happier. That I've seemed more alive than I ever have in my entire life and I…well I just don't get it. Anyway, I'm getting off track. He's got cancer…in fact he's going to the hospital sometime later today but…I'm worried that things aren't going to be OK. That's he's going to die in there." Tim coughed a little bit. "And…well I want to know if God would do that?"

The priest mumbled something and then said, "I'm afraid I don't know what God will do. He works in mysterious ways."

"Two examples," interrupted Tim, "Hitler and Ashton Kutcher."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind. Continue."

"The Lord works in ways that are beyond human understanding. And even though we sometimes might not agree with what He does, it is His will."

"Look, man," said Tim. "God hasn't done me any real favours over the years, alright? When I was two, my mom died. When I was older, my dad left me on the streets to survive and now that I feel my life might be turning around…He decides, 'Hey, just to show my love for Tim Drake, My favourite child, let's give one of his best friends skin cancer. Let's have him go to chemotherapy.' Have you ever seen someone after chemo, father? He would come into the club, to train, and he would get weaker and weaker each day. Then after about three days of it, he comes in and throws up. Spends about ten minutes throwing up because of what _may_ make him better. And God is supposed to love us, right? No offence, but Gar must have really pissed God off if he gets skin cancer."

The priest was silent for about ten seconds. Then he said, "Who does your friend blame for his sickness?"

"What?"

"Does he blame God?"

"No," said Tim. He thought back. "No…he told me he prays every night to get better. But this isn't about him it-"  
"You said he came to your boxing club after going to chemotherapy," interrupted the priest. "Not being an expert in medicine, I would expect him to go home and rest. Why doesn't he?"

Tim thought about this. "He…said that he'd rather be around his best friends than watching TV. Now all he does is just lie on a cot and watch us train and he says that it's more rewarding than we'll ever know." Tim rubbed his eyes. "Uh, look, maybe I was out of line to blame God for all of this but…He doesn't make sense sometimes."

"Many people do blame their problems on God," assured the priest. "However…you must know that your friend still loves God and if your friend can…can't you?"

* * *

Tim wasn't too sure about religion. He turned to the Catholic Church because he knew it was Bruce's religion but not having one himself, he decided to make his own search for one. There were two catholic churches in Jump City and one Jewish synagogue. But the one place Tim ever expected to find himself was a Mosque of the Muslim religion. Tim had seen pictures of other Mosques on the news but this one hardly looked like one. In fact it was in an apartment building.

"3J," read Tim from the directory. "Muslim Mosque Inc-Lawrence Dyken." Tim sighed and went to the intercom. He gave 3J a buzz and then waited for a response.

"Hello?" came the mechanical greeting through the intercom.

"Hi," said Tim. "Uh…is this Muslim Mosque Inc?"

"Come on up," said the voice.

There was a buzz and Tim pulled open the door. There was something about the voice that Tim couldn't put his finger on. It didn't sound Middle Eastern.

Instead of taking the elevator, Tim took the stairs. All the sitting he had done in the confessional booth had slowed his blood down. As soon as he got to the third floor, he felt a bit uncertain. But all fears and uncertainties went away as soon as he knocked on the door.

The door opened and there stood a man. Caucasian, with deep blue eyes and blonde hair. He wore a white gown and was barefoot. He looked very happy to see Tim.

Tim on the other hand had no idea what the hell was going on. As far as he knew, Muslims weren't white and they sure as hell didn't have blonde hair or blue eyes.

"H-hi," he greeted.

The man continued to smile. "_As Salaam Alaikum_," he greeted.

Nodding, Tim said, "Right back at you."

The man moved aside and allowed Tim to enter. He pointed him to a room that was down the hallway. "The prayer room is in there," he instructed. "I'll be in to join you shortly."

Tim walked down the hallway and entered the white room. It looked like a workout room. There were soft rugs on the ground, a microphone and a podium at the front of the room. Since there were no seats, Tim sat down on the floor.

The man returned. "Before we begin," he said, "I should introduce myself. I'm Minister Lawrence. I run Muslim Mosque Inc."

"Ah," said Tim. "OK…wait, how'd you know I came here to pray?"

Minister Lawrence smiled. "I doubt most teenagers would come all the way up here just to make some racist comment. Did you come here to pray?"

Tim nodded. "I…I already did at a Catholic church and…I know I'm not Jewish so I decided to come here."

Minister Lawrence smiled. "Well that's good. Always keep options open." He moved close to Tim and got down on his knees. "Does something trouble you?"

"Yea," said Tim. "No offence…but I thought Muslims were…well…not white."

Minister Lawrence smiled. "A common misjudgement," he said. "There are actually many white Muslims in the world. I started Muslim Mosque Inc after a trip to Mecca. Took me weeks to find a big enough apartment that faced Mecca. But enough about that. First off, tell me your name and why you're here."

Tim moved himself onto his knees. "My name is Tim Drake. I'm here because later today a friend of mine is going into the hospital for surgery later in the week to get rid of skin cancer. I wanted to pray for him."

Minister Lawrence smiled. "Very well. Have you ever prayed to Allah before they way Muslims do?"

Tim shook his head.

Out of a pocket in his gown came a card from Minister Lawrence.

"Just read that part," he said. "And then I'll repeat it in Arabic. Then say whatever you wish."

"O-OK," said Tim. He watched as Minister Lawrence placed his arms up but close to his body and kept his eyes shut. Tim looked at the card and began to recite.

"'In the name of Allah," he began, "'the beneficent, the merciful, all praises to due to Allah, Lord of all the worlds. The one God to whom praise is due forever.'"

Instantly Minister Lawrence began to repeat what Tim had said in perfect Arabic.

"I pray," began Tim, "that you will watch over my friend, Garfield Logan." Minister Lawrence translated. "If it is Your will, I beg and beg that you do not go through with taking my friend. He is still a child as am I but I feel that he has much more to do be taken from us so early. I pray, that he will recover from the cancer that continues to weaken him and that he becomes just as strong as he was before. I pray…I pray to You, God. Amen."

With that, Minister Lawrence bowed his body so that his head was touching the ground and Tim followed the action.

* * *

Garfield had fallen asleep on the cot. His breathing was normal and he felt very comfortable. Suddenly a chill swept through his body. He opened his eyes and saw that Tim had just come out of the changing room and was just passing by.

"Dude," yawned Garfield. "Where were you?"

Tim rubbed his nose. "Ah, had some stuff to take care of. You know, drug deal here. Gun running there. And just when I think I'm done, I find out one of my hoes is holding out on me."

Victor laughed. "Come on, man," he said from the heavy bag. "Everybody knows white boys can't be pimps. And the ones that are, to simply put it, white trash. Comin' on out of the house with the wife beater to find out that they on the exact episode of _Cops_ that they're watchin'. "

Garfield laughed.

There was the sound of the door opening and there stood Garfield's mother.

Garfield got up slowly from the cot.

"It's time?" he asked.

Sally nodded. "Do you have your things?"

"Yea."

"Do you want to say goodbye to everybody?"

Garfield nodded. He turned around and saw that everybody, Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Tim, Victor, Kori and Raven had all gathered.

Sally smiled and said, "Take your time. I'll be waiting in the car."

Bruce stepped forward first and said, "Gar as soon as you feel well enough, come back in here. We'll make a state champion out of you yet."

Garfield smiled and shook his hand. "Thanks."

Alfred was next telling Garfield that the cancer was only going to make him stronger and that his courage made all of them stronger.

After that was Dick. "Good luck," he said. "And I know I've done this before…but I wanna apologize if I was ever a…"

"You," suggested Garfield.

Dick laughed. "Yea…if I was ever a me to you." He shook Garfield's hand and hugged him. "Godspeed," he finished.

Victor was next. "Y'gonna make me cry, dawg," he said with a sad face. He hugged his small friend and told him, "I'll make sure you're taken care of at the hospital. I'll get all the hot nurses to give you a sponge bath…every hour too. Least I can do for you helping me ace my exam."

Garfield laughed and rubbed his friend's bald head.

"For luck," he explained.

Kori couldn't control her emotions. She latched onto Garfield's body like a leech and almost chocked the life out of him until she realized that she was cutting off his blood flow.

"Forgive me," she implored. "I hope that once this over you do not feel like diarrhea anymore."

Garfield stifled a laugh. "You mean feel like crap," he explained.

"Exactly," she said with a smile. "I hope you return soon. I feel nobody could replace you as Judas."

Garfield nodded. "I will."

Raven came up next. They looked at each other nervously.

"So…" she said.

"Yea," said Garfield simply.

"I-I guess I should say something."

"That might work."

Raven hugged him. "Get well soon," she said.

She F'n hates me, sang Garfield in his head, _Yep, she F'n hates me…la la la la_, sang Garfield in his head,

Tim was the last one. "You better not die or anything in there," he said with a smile. "Or I'll kill you."

"Is that a threat?" asked Garfield.

"You better believe it," smiled Tim as he hugged Garfield. "Take care, _Luva Irmao_."

"Oh, come on," complained Garfield. "You _have_ to tell me what that means. I mean…I'm going into the _hospital_. There may be no other time."

"That's wishful thinking on your part," joked Tim. "Trust me, there'll be another time."

Garfield picked up his bag and headed towards the door. As he pushed it open, he turned back to his friends and said, "Just make sure you're all here when I get back."

* * *

Upon arriving at the hospital, he was placed in the ER and lead to the end of a hallway. He was shown a bed and told to strip and then climb into the hospital gown provided.

Garfield removed his clothes and dressed himself in the somewhat revealing gown. When that was done, the nurse came back and strapped a strong elastic like band on his arm. Garfield felt the pressure grow in his arm and in twenty seconds his veins were rising like a zombie from the grave.

"This is going to hurt," she told Garfield as she approached him with the IV.

"I'm not surprised," he replied. She stuck the needle into his arm and it was unlike any sharp pain he had felt before. He winced in pain, let out a sharp gasp, and swore quietly for only him and the nurse to hear.

"OK," she said when it was all done, "we can move you up to your room now."

With that, Garfield felt the bed move towards the elevator.

* * *

Once he was in his room, Garfield sat and watched TV with his mother.

"Are you sure it's OK if I go home for the night?" she asked him.

"Yea, mom. Besides, I know you got a ton of work to do so…like, just go. I'll be fine and I gotta stay here under observation for a couple of days anyway so…just go home and call Bruce and tell you love him and that you think he's hot and all that stuff."

Sally smiled. "OK. If you need anything-,"

"I'll be sure to call the nurse

Sally Logan gave her son a sad smile and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll check in with you tomorrow. I love you, Garfield."

Gar wiped his cheek and smiled. "Bye, mom."

* * *

Victor had just finished his 89th push-up when he heard the phone ring. He grunted in frustration because he was the only one home and he didn't like to be interrupted during exercise. He stopped, got up, went to his room, and picked up the receiver.

"'Sup," he said into the receiver.

"''Sup'?" asked Garfield. "I'm here in the hospital, I'm calling to let you know how I'm doing and all I get is a 'sup'?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Victor in an apologetic voice. "Let me try that again: "What the hell do you want?"

Garfield laughed.

"Seriously, how you doing, dawg?"

"Not bad," admitted Garfield. "I get a small cable TV in my room and damn is this hospital food good. Did you know how good this jell-o tastes? Oh, hang on a second." There was a pause and Victor could hear what sounded like cheery background music. He then heard Garfield sing, "The youngest one liked girls," followed by his laughter.

"What the hell are you singing?" asked Victor.

"_The Brady Bunch_," replied Garfield. "Only I've changed the lyrics a bit. Oh hang on…but they didn't sleep alone," he sang.

Victor chucked at his friend's immaturity. "Dawg, I think they got you hopped up on too many painkillers. Be sure to smuggle some out for me. So what's it like in the hospital?"

"Not counting the TV and cool food it actually blows. Few minutes after my mom leaves this nurse comes in the room and hands me this bottle like thing. Tells me that if I gotta pee, I gotta use that. And then if I gotta do number two, I gotta use the bedpan. So I'm like 'screw that' and I'm just using the bathroom in here. It's only a few feet away."

"Yea, don't crap where you sleep," agreed Victor. "I'll tell you what, after practice tomorrow, we'll all come visit you. Cheer you up and when then the three of us'll leave so you and Raven can…bow chicki bow wow. Chicki bow wow."

Garfield laughed. Though the porn music made from the mouth was old, it was always funny. "That'd be good," said Garfield. "Well, I'll let you go, Vic. You take it easy."

"I will, man. You take it easy too."

"Bye."

* * *

Garfield was lucky that Tim was still up watching TV when he called.

"Hey, how are you?" asked Tim. "How're they treating you?"

"Oh, you know," said Garfield. "Open this, spread these, pull down these, we're going to need a sample of this, this and this, turn your head and cough and to finish it off they throw in a call for me to bend over and I hear a latex glove snap on the doctor's hand."

"Sounds fun," said Tim. "You worried about your surgery?"

Garfield was quiet for a minute before saying, "Yea. I mean, I've never been under the knife before and…I mean, it's scary."

"I can imagine. But you know, you'll wake up and you'll be out of it. You'll be so hopped up on drugs that you won't know what's happening."

"If I am, perhaps you can join me in singing _Do Ra Mi_

"Oh, that is a cheap shot," said Tim. "Head shots. Head shots. That's what they do."

"Yea, I bet. So I hear you guys are coming tomorrow."

"Sure, if you're up for it."

"Oh, yea," said Garfield. "My mom has a big case to work on and she'd be grateful that you guys came to visit me. If you can, get Bruce to take her out. She needs a distraction."

"OK, I'll talk to him sometime tomorrow after practice."

"Thanks, dude." There was a yawn on Garfield's line. "Well, I should get some sleep. Cause I got a lot of nothing to do tomorrow."

Tim chuckled. "OK, I'll see you tomorrow, bro. Goodnight."

"Wait," cried Garfield.

"What is it?" asked Tim.

"What does _Luva Irmao _mean? Come on, I've been thinking it's Japanese or something but I can't figure it out."

"Sorry, Gar," smiled Tim. "But you're gonna have to be a good boy and wait for Christmas and wait with the rest of the good boys and girls."

"Christmas?" exclaimed Garfield. "That was only a couple of months ago."

"I know, I like to torture you."

"Oh, you're an ass," said Garfield, though Tim knew he didn't mean it. "I was gonna share one of my hot nurses with you but now, I'm afraid you've just lucked out."

"That's alright," said Tim. "You probably got all guy nurses anyway."

"Oh," gasped Garfield while laughing, "that's it. When you come tomorrow, watch out for flying bedpans. If you're lucky, there may be a prize in it." Garfield laughed some more. "Goodnight, Tim."

"Goodnight, Gar."

* * *

Tim could hear the phone ringing from his bedroom. He sat up quickly and got out of bed to get to his door. It rang again and that was when Tim looked at his alarm clock and saw that it was 3:34AM. He cursed under his breath for having to answer the phone this early in the day.

"Hello?" he heard Bruce's voice ask from the kitchen, where the main phone was kept. He didn't sound tired at all. It almost seemed like he was waiting at the phone for some time. Tim waited outside his door.

"Oh my god," groaned Bruce. "W-when did it happen?"

Tim took a deep breath and felt his legs go heavy. He heaved himself out into the hallway and down the stairs and after what seemed like ten minutes, found himself standing next to Bruce, who was still on the phone.

"I know," said Bruce into the phone. He looked at Tim with the saddest eyes the teenager could ever recall in his years of living with Bruce.

Putting the receiver back down, Bruce looked down at Tim.

"He's gone," croaked Bruce.

Tim's mouth opened. "W-what do you mean? Bruce, who-"

"Garfield," replied Bruce. "He died half an hour ago in his sleep."

Tears were beginning to sting Tim's eyes. He had just spoken to Gar before he went to bed and…

No, God…please don't let it be true…

"Was he in pain?" he asked as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Bruce shook his head. "He was asleep, I doubt he would have felt anything." There were tears in the older man's eyes as well. He pulled Tim close to him in a hug.

As soon as he felt Bruce's arms wrap around his body, Tim felt secure enough to cry. In all the months he had known Gar, they had probably been the best months of his life. He saw Garfield Logan as the friend that would always be there for you, who would go through hell and back just to keep you alive.

And now he was dead.

"I never got to tell him," sobbed Tim. "He begged me before he went to sleep to tell him…and I-I didn't tell him. I never got to tell him."

He broke away from Bruce and began to pound the counter. After the second time his fist came down, Tim realized that the counter was incredibly soft. He took notice of this and then began pounding again until he blacked out.

* * *

Tim awoke to the sound of something pounding on his mattress. His eyes felt wet and his teeth were gritted. Before he opened his eyes he knew that it was his own fist that was attacking the mattress. He stopped and wiped the tears away from his eye.

He began to pant like he had just run a marathon. He looked at the alarm clock.

It read 12:31AM.

Tim looked around the room, unsure if his last memory was reality or not. It took him several moments to realize that it was all just a part of his subconscious.

He put his head in his palms and wiped away whatever remaining tears there were.

Getting out of bed, he turned on the light to the bedroom and pulled out the scrapbook Alfred had given every one of them. He looked at early pictures of him and Victor goofing around in the ring, posing in fighting positions and then turned to the more recent pictures of him, Victor and Gar. The first picture of Gar, he was so skinny it wasn't even funny.

_Third-world skinny was how he described it, _thought Tim. And then he kept progressing through the weeks the pictures represented and saw that Garfield was much more buff than when he first entered. His eyes stopped on one picture of him and Gar. It was after they had finished a sparring session and both of them looked dead tired, sweat was clearly visible on their foreheads and faces. Both of them were standing side by side, smiles wide on their faces with one wrapped fist held over their chest.

Tim remembered that it was after that exact spar that he started calling Gar _Luva Irmao_. And that was when Tim knew what he had to do. He got dressed, went to his dresser and got three books out of it (He didn't have much of a collection of literature) and his wallet. Sneaking out of his room quietly to avoid detection from either Bruce or Dick, Tim slid down the railing of the stairway and made his way to the garage.

Getting in the car without getting caught was easy…getting it out of the garage while making the minimal amount of noise was less than easy. He pushed the button to the door on the controller, which was located on the visor and heard the door loudly but smoothly creak open. Tim started the car and drove it slowly and quietly out of the garage. As soon as he was clear, he pushed the button to close the door.

If Bruce were to wake up, he would probably notice that he was gone and then check the car. If Bruce was crazy (There were many moments where Tim thought so) he would call the police and report a stolen car. If he was sane and using rational thinking, he would wait for Tim to call and then put all his worries to ease.

* * *

Jump City Hospital was lit up from all the lights on the inside. When Tim parked the car, he grabbed the books he brought with him and dashed through the doors. When he approached the front desk, the nurse gave him a funny look.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Tim nodded. "What room is Garfield Logan in?"

The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry, young man, but visiting hours are over." She checked her watch. "In fact, they ended several hours ago. Now unless you're immediate family I can't allow you in."

Closing his eyes, Tim said, "I'm his brother."

She raised an eyebrow. "All right, then," she said.

Tim sighed, grateful that she didn't ask him to show ID.

Looking through the computer files she made a few quick clicks and then looked back at Tim.

"He's in room 14D."

Tim thanked the nurse and took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. Butterflies were scattering about in his stomach. This was irrational, impulsive and just plain ignorant. The elevator stopped a few times for other people and after making a few stops, Tim finally made it to his destination.

14D, 14D…where is it?

After a few seconds Tim found it. The door was closed.

Tim gave another sigh. He had no idea what he was going to do but he figured he might as well get it over with.

He opened the door and stepped in.

The bed was empty. There was an empty wheelchair at the end of the room. There was no nearby plate of hospital food. The TV was off. And that was when Tim noticed the other thing about the bed. It was turned down. Made so that it would look nice for the next person to come in.

Where is he? thought Tim. _H-he said that…the nurse said it was this room. Gar told me he was staying in this room the whole week…the bed…_thought Tim.

A bomb exploded in Tim's chest. Though it was often clichéd, it was true. The empty bed in it's proper condition could mean only one thing:

_Gar's gone, thought Tim._

To Be Continued...Read and Review


	11. Brothers and Family

Hi there! I'm so glad that you guys reviewed as nicely as you did. I noticed that I didn't get as many reviews for chapter 10 as I did chapter 9...and that makes me a Sad Panda...so tell people about this story. I got people telling me left and right that this is the best story they've read on Teen Titans. Well...COME ON! Share the wealth.  
Actually, I'm doing this just to expand my image. I'm a selfish little man.

WARNING: This may remind a lot of you of Million Dollar Baby. Sorry-it's a great movie. This is an OK fic. Don't flame me because of that. This chapter focuses more on Tim than Garfield but Gar's in quite a while.

Well, time to respond to reviews. Oh and check out my profile to go to a site where you can discuss Raging Beast Boy in the fan fic forms. Also the meaning of Gar's nickname is explained in this chapter. I'll explain more at the end.

acosta pèrez josè ramiro: So glad that you like it. Yeah, people LOVE the boxing concept. I only started this because of the movie Million Dollar Baby but...I never thought it would become this popular. Seriously, I thought I would have only 30 reviews by now.

Snea: Hold on to your IV bag, this was a major influence for me to update. I hope you feel a lot better soon and I hope this makes you feel better.

DarkRose: Alright, another update. Hope you like...you won't like the start of this chapter I'm afraid.

Hoshi-ko88: Sorry if the last chapter made you cry. To be honest...I cried myself when it came to writting the last part of this chapter. I thought, "Stop for a sec...and just take in what you're doing." I did and as I continued typing I had tears in my eyes myself.

Gregthezombie: Alright, dude! What's better than boring old school than a not so boring fanfic. You read this all in one sitting? And how? Too many questions...sorry. One of the best, huh? Aw shucks. I bet you say that to all the boys. As for the Roth case, some people have reviewed about that and I have to say this: It was a mistake. I needed a name quickly and after I put it on the site I thought, "YOU IDIOT! THAT'S RAVEN'S NAME!" Oh well.

Darkest Midnight: Best Story Ever...you say that to all the boys! I think you're going to cry at this chapter. But when it's done you'll cry a happy cry. And I pardon your french...for a minute I thought you were speaking Italian.

Darkofthenight: Try not to cry too much during this chapter.

Cycloptic NightBat: You cried during the dream? I suppose I made it too real but I'm glad it had the impact I was looking for.

G A Reader: Ta-da! As you wish.

Sherbert Mayhem: I was thinking Raven could go back to loving Gavin. I mean...now that I think about it, they're made for each other. My second reason is:  
PSYCHE! Drive you crazy, it's what I'm good at. Please don't hurt me!

BeastWithin: -holds up lighter-ALWAYS KEEP THE FAITH

SamRH: I hope it doesn't kill you too much. It's been rather quiet on the Raging BB board on the forum. I must change that.

ShadeyMike: I'm glad that a guy is man enough to admit he cried. I think you may cry this time too. Sorry, but that's the way it has to be. Thank you for the 10/10.

Javer: (Cue Darth Vader music from Empire Strikes Back) Sorry for writing so damn good. I need to work on description though. Didn't on this chapter. Try to on the others. Did you remember that thing from Ippo that you said was similar to the last chapter?

LilyandJamesrox: That's cool on the AU award and I'm glad that you would nominate me and vote for me. How do I do it? I don't know. I honestly don't. I wonder the same thing for other writers. I hope this update was fast enough.

Darkmagic101: Rae didn't fight back because Gavin got a good shot to the head and mostly shock as well. I figured it was better for Gar to beat the hell out of him.

Doc-Trigger: What have I done to him...you shall see. I hope you like this chapter.

Now without furthur ado...chapter 11

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Brothers and Family

Jump City Cathedral was filled with many as they stared at the coffin that lay atop the altar. Inside, was the body of Garfield Mark Logan-known inside the boxing ring as Beast Boy. Dead just a few months shy of his 18th birthday of skin cancer.

In the third row, Raven Roth sat with her father and her mother, who had returned home to be with her daughter during this crisis. Raven looked at Garfield's pale, embalmed body. She looked sad and yet, a small smile was on her face. His pain was gone, he was now at peace.

Kori was sitting with her family. Kori couldn't hold her emotions still and her parents were considering taking her to therapy in a few weeks.

In the front row, Sally Logan sat with her boyfriend and Garfield's former coach, Bruce Wayne. His adopted son, Dick Grayson sat beside him. At the end of the row was Tim Drake and Victor Stone. Garfield's two best friends both had sad looks on their faces. Victor's bottom lip was quivering. Tim looked over and saw his dark friend's state. He smiled and put his arm over him.

The priest-the same one Tim had confessed to earlier-stood at the podium.

"And now," he said, "if you will look to the screen to your right, we will play a video, which Garfield made shortly before he went to be with our Lord, the Father."

* * *

Garfield Logan snapped awake from his daydream. It was a strange sort of dream. He knew he was dreaming yet he was still awake. Almost like half his mind was still in the waking world and the other was in the dream world. 

_Falling asleep at the computer…not cool_.

Garfield looked at the computer monitor and saw that the document he had been working on was finished. He had only a few days before he went into the hospital and he wanted to put everything in order before he left.

"Well, that's the last one," he said to himself. He printed it off and signed his name on it. He then stuffed it into a tan coloured envelope and printed the name 'Tim Drake' on it. He moved over to his bed and lifted the mattress and placed it underneath the mattress along with many other envelopes.

Garfield then moved in front of the video camera that he had gotten as a Christmas present from his grandmother. It was on it's tripod and facing the computer. Garfield moved over back to the chair he was sitting in and moved towards the video camera. He turned on the timer so that it would start recording in five seconds.

The little red light in front of the camera began flashing to indicate it was on it's timer. When it was fully red, Garfield knew it was recording. He opened his mouth and began to speak.

"Hello. I'm Garfield."

* * *

Tim gazed at the room his late friend occupied. 

Tears were pouring down his face and he covered his face with his hand.

_Gar…my Luva Irmao…my friend. I hope you can find some peace now._

There was the sound of a toilet flushing. Tim turned towards the sound of the bathroom in the hospital room.

The door opened and out walked Garfield, dressed in the typical hospital gown, IV stuck in his arm vein and carrying it around with him like the pope's cane. His eyes were shut and he seemed to be in a sleepy daze.

A feeling of relief swept through Tim's body.

"Oh, Gar," he sighed.

Garfield's eyes shot open and he screamed because he thought he was completely alone in his room. He jumped in the air and turned towards Tim. When his eyes cleared he looked puzzled. He then remembered the recurring joke about hospital gowns and pulled the back of the gown together though Tim couldn't see anything.

"Tim? What the heck are you doing here?"

Tim shrugged. "I-I came to visit," he said simply.

Garfield gazed at his friend. "Were you crying?"

A quick hand wiped away any evidence of tears. "Uh, no. I banged my knee coming in and…you know. It hurt." Trying to take the subject off his display of emotion he gestured towards the bed. "Why is this turned down? Looks like somebody died."

Tim instantly bit his tongue, knowing that was not the best word to use.

"Oh, that," said Garfield. "Yea, the nurse came in while I was in the can and asked if me if I wanted her to turn the bed down. You know, that way when I'm done I can come back to a made bed."

Tim gave a small laugh. "Tha-that's something, Gar." He looked at his friend's face. "Are you in pain?"

With a sombre face, Garfield nodded. "Yea, I mean, they give me stuff through the IV but…still hurts." He gave a sharp hiss and put his hand on his stomach. "God…kinda like this most of the time."

"You should get back to bed," said Tim.

Garfield moved over to the bed and climbed in. "I was planning on going back to sleep, but since you're here, Tim, I might as well stay awake. By the way, how'd you get in here anyway?"

Tim sat down in the chair next to Garfield's bed. "I told them I was your bother," he told his friend. "And they bought it."

"But why would my dear '_brother_' come to visit me at one o'clock in the morning?"

Tim opened his mouth to search for the right words.

"I mean, we spoke just this evening," continued Garfield. "I mean…what's so important that you had to rush out of your home to come here at one in the morning?" Garfield definitely wanted answers and knew that Tim would have to tell him the truth now.

With his head bowed down, Tim sighed. "I…I had a dream," he said.

Garfield nodded. "I do to. Most of the time I wake up expecting to see at least one naked chick in my bed."

"Shut up, Gar!" spat Tim.

Garfield fell quiet and looked a bit hurt.

Tim sighed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Gar…it's just…it was so _real. _I mean…I woke up and I wasn't sure if it was real or not."

"Well what was it?"

Tim looked his friend in the eye. "I-Bruce got a call from the hospital. They told us that you died a few minutes ago."

Garfield sat back into the large hospital pillows. "Oh."

The memory of that horrid dream still in his mind, Tim gritted his teeth. "And…I was crying, not just in the dream, I woke up with tears in my eyes too, and pounding my fist in anger and I was so mad at myself."

Garfield frowned. "Why were you mad at yourself? Was it one of those dreams where everything that goes bad is your fault or did you hold the cure to my ailment in your hands?"  
Tim put his hand on Garfield's. "I never told you what _Luva Irmao _means."

With sad eyes, Garfield smiled. "I still think it means 'slave lover'," he joked. "But, seriously, are you ever going to tell me what it means?"

Tim shook his head. "I'll tell when we're old and grey. I'll be in a mansion with millions of dollars in cash scattered about and then one day you'll drop by and you'll ask me, 'What does _Luva Irmao_ mean?' and I'm gonna be like, 'What the hell are you talking about? I don't even remember what that is.'"

Garfield laughed. "If that's the case then I'll push you down the stairs in your wheelchair." He continued to laugh until he gave a sharp cry in pain. He grabbed the side of the bed and winced in pain. "Jesus Christ," he cried.

Tim was fast acting, putting his hand and Garfield's arm and the other on his shoulder. "Do you want me to get the nurse?"

"Nothing they can do," Garfield hissed with eyes glued shut. The pain stopped and his eyes reopened. The pain took a toll on him, his chest and face given a light coat of sweat.

"It comes and goes," he sighed. He looked at Tim and wanted to cry. "Tim…I know you don't want to hear this but I don't think I'm going to live much longer."

Tim squeezed Garfield's shoulder. "Gar, don't talk like that. You're going to have this operation in a few days and you'll be 100 cancer free. And then we're gonna train our asses off, go to the state championships and dominate. People will call 2005 the year of the Titans."

Garfield closed his eyes and a few tears fell onto his cheeks. "If I don't…recover…will you look after my mother?"

Tim nodded. "I'll visit her everyday if I have to." He chuckled. "Then again…maybe Bruce will do that for me. Man, they just love dating each other."

"That's true," said Garfield. With his eyes still closed he asked, "Tim…will you read to me? You don't have to but-"

"Which book?" asked Tim. "I brought a couple of my own but is there anything you have you want me to read?"

"_The Gloves_," said Garfield. "It's in the bag under my bed."

Tim took the book out of the green duffel bag and continued where Garfield left off. Every once in while he would have to stop because Garfield was in too much pain. Two hours passed and Tim was still reading. As he turned the page to the next chapter, he looked up and saw that Garfield has his eyes closed and wasn't moving.

"You awake, Gar?" he asked.

There was no response or movement.

"Gar?" asked Tim. He shook his friend.

He didn't stir.

Panic seized Tim. He grabbed Garfield by the shoulders and shook, rougher than he intended.

Gar stirred for half a second and was instantly back in the world of the waking. He mumbled something and then looked at Tim.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Tim said, "No. Jesus Christ, I thought that you…that…you were just so still and it looked like you weren't-"

Garfield leaned forward on the hospital bed and gently smacked Tim on the cheek.

"Tim…look at me," commanded Garfield. "I want you to take your hand and put it right here," he said. He placed his own hand on his pecs where his heart would be.

"What?" asked Tim.

"Do it," said Garfield.

Slowly, Tim moved his hand and placed it where Garfield had directed him. He could feel the heart beating, a steady rhythm.

"What's it doing?" asked Garfield.

Tim was unsure of where he was going with this but answered truthfully. "It's…beating," he declared. He moved his hand away.

Garfield snapped his fingers. "Exactly, it's beating. And if it's beating then I'm alive, Tim."

Tim nodded. "You better not tell Vic I was acting this way," he warned.

Garfield held up his hand. "Trust me, Tim," he said before gasping in pain again. He grabbed the sheets to the bed and held them until his knuckled turned white. "I'll take it to my grave," he groaned. His head fell back onto the pillow and he could feel himself getting worse and worse.

"Tim," he whispered out of exhaustion, "come here."

Leaning forward so he could hear, Tim bit back the tears that were forming again.

"I'm serious," Garfield whispered. "If I don't make it out of here…there's…a file folder under my bed in my house. Inside…are letters to you guys…and my will. It's not legalized by a lawyer or anything but I left something for each one of you." There was another sharp gasp that was let out of his mouth and he felt like he was going to collapse in on himself. "Y-you guys…are always going to be my best friends. You…you've always known…you're my best friend, right?"

Tim linked their hands together like Gar was over the edge of some cliff and Tim was the only thing keeping him from certain death.

"Be strong, Gar," whispered Tim.

Closing his eyes, Garfield whispered, "I think I'm ready to go now, Tim." And with that his shoulders fell back and he let out a final sigh.

Tim checked his pulse and found that it was still going as strong as it was before. It seemed that Garfield had simply fallen asleep. But Tim knew what he had to do. He owed it to Garfield Logan. And he probably owed it to himself. If there was anything else he could do for his friend, it was this: He moved his mouth close to Garfield's ear and with a sad voice that had known the pain and grief of losing a loved one, he whispered to him, "_Luva Irmao_…it means Glove Brother…or Brother of the Glove. You're my brother." He stood up and looked at his frail friend in front of him. He bent down slowly towards Garfield's forehead and gently kissed him there.

What Tim didn't know what that Gar was just barely awake to be aware of what had just happened. Had this been any other time, he would have objected to what his friend had done to show his affection for him, but because of what he had said earlier-and Garfield knew that Tim was sincere in every word he said-he knew that it was a token of the love his friend had for him. He felt Tim's head rest over his heart and listened to it beat. After a while, Garfield fell asleep and a few minutes later Tim did also.

* * *

Around 6AM that morning, Tim could hear a pounding in his ears. Rhythmic almost. It reminded him of the sound of gloves landing on a heavy bag. He opened his eyes and lifted his head from his friend's chest. 

"His heart," he mumbled. It was Garfield's heart that Tim had heard.

Garfield stirred and smacked his lips. "Underpants," he muttered.

Before Tim could ask what that was all about, a nurse came in the room.

"Good morning," she said to Tim quietly. "I'm here to collect his bedpan."

She bent down and picked up the empty (and unused) bedpan. She looked at Garfield and said, "Garfield, when was the last time you had a BM?"

With barely open eyes, Garfield moved his head towards Tim and asked him simply, "Does she mean a dump?"

"Y-yes," said Tim.

"Took a big one before you got here," wheezed Garfield.

The nurse smiled. "He's such a sweetie," she said. "You're his brother?"

"Yes," lied Tim. "He was in a lot of pain last night. Can you…"

The nurse nodded. "We do have something we can give him. We just need to put it in his system every 12 hours."

"Do it quickly," said Tim as he stood up and stretched. "Is there a cafeteria here?"

The nurse nodded. "It's on the first floor. The medicine will be in his system by the time you get back. Just to let you know…he'll be a bit woozy and out of it."

"Cool," said Tim. "Makes me wish I had a video camera."

"He's very lucky to have someone who cares about him so much here," said the nurse. "You're such a good brother."

* * *

_A muffin_, Tim complained in his mind. _Try to get something for us to eat and all I get are two freaking muffins. _

Just as Tim was about to step into the elevator, he stopped and looked at the payphones. He moved towards them, carefully put the muffins on top of the phone and picked up the receiver. After inserting his quarter, he dialled the number.

There was one ring before the other line picked up and Tim could hear Bruce's voice say, "Tim?"

"Yea, it's me."

"Where are you?" Bruce's voice had the air of concern which Tim had rarely heard before.

"I'm at the hospital. I got here a little after midnight."

"What the hell are you doing at the hospital?" Bruce asked with a bit of anger. The relief had been pushed aside.

"I went to visit Gar," explained Tim.

"At midnight?"

"It's…personal."

"Personal? You're a teenager under my care and you go out in the middle of the night to visit your sick friend without even telling me or leaving a note? I had no idea what had happened to you! 'Personal', are you crazy?"

"No," said Tim with gritted teeth. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather not be. I'll be at the club for eight and I'll talk to you then."

"How is he?"

"In a lot of pain last night. They're giving him some stuff now." Tim paused. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," said Bruce. "I think he would have done the same for you."

* * *

Tim entered Garfield's room with the muffins in his hand. 

"Sorry, Gar," he began, "but they don't got much in there at quarter after six in the morning so-"

Tim stopped and looked at the large tray of food that had appeared on the small table beside Garfield's bed.

Garfield's face was a silly one. It was clearly evident was he on the drugs.

"Mine," he said like a child.

"You aren't going to share?" asked Tim with a laugh.

Garfield shrugged. He then lay back on his pillow and fell asleep with a big grin on his face.

Just as Tim was about to take a grape out of a bowl, Garfield bolted up and looked down at his lap.

"They're gone," he said tiredly.

Tim stopped chewing. "It's only one grape, dude."

"They took my underpants," declared Garfield.

Trying the best to restrain himself, Tim suddenly started laughing.

"Who took them?" he asked. "The nurse?"

"The underpants gnomes," explained Garfield. Before Tim could tell him there was no such thing, Garfield began to sing, "Time to go to work/ We work all night/Search for underpants, hey/We won't stop 'till we find underpants/ rum-tum rummy tum-tay!"

_Painkillers and South Park do not mix well_, thought Tim.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Garfield was back to normal, though every few minutes he would smile uncontrollably. 

"So where'd you get all this food?" asked Tim.

"Nurse brought it," explained Garfield. "Sorry to make you buy those muffins."

"Well I ate mine so just eat yours and it won't be for nothing," said Tim.

Garfield leaned back on the bed and looked at his friend. "Tim…I'm sorry about last night. I-I made it sound like I was going to die and…I'm sorry I was overdramatic."

"You're an actor. It's what you do best."

"True."

"Relax. I kind of felt the same way. Let's leave it at that."

"So…have you ever been to a show?" asked Garfield.

"What?"

"Well…I mean, Mrs. T is taking the class to see _Superstar _when we're ready to perform. Have you ever been to that kind of theatre?"

Mrs T was their drama teacher.

"No."

Garfield smiled. "You'll be surprised. It can really 'wow' you."

"You ever think of doing that for a living?" asked Tim.

Garfield nodded. "Yea. That's what I want to do with my life."

"You do a lot of stage work?"

Garfield nodded. "See, at my old school you had to wait until grade 10 to do drama but when I was in grade 9, the school was thinking of cancelling the program at the end of the year. Luckily for me that I had a lot of artsy people with me. We put on this show that raised money for the school and they kept it."

"You're a hero," joked Tim.

Garfield sat back. "Listen…I have to be serious now. Now…you don't have to say anything to this but just listen."

Tim put his hands on his knees. "OK, I'm listening."

"I-I heard you last night," said Garfield. "About the meaning."

"Oh."

"And…I was awake for what you did afterwards."

Tim fell silent.

Garfield remained quiet also.

"I'm sorry about that," apologized Tim. "I…I shouldn't have done that."

"Tim," began Garfield, "you said it yourself, I'm your brother. And when you said that…I don't think I've been paid a greater compliment or given a greater honour than that. B-but when you…when you kissed me…I knew it wasn't just words."

Tim shifted in his seat. "What do you mean?"

"You said that I was your brother and then you kissed me. I knew that you truly considered me a brother to do that."

Tim looked down at the floor. "This feels like Christmas all over again."

"Minus the undersized bathing suit and hot tub," smiled Garfield.

"If you're freaked out by that…I'm sorry. It's just…people have said that ever since you first came to the club, that I've been happier. That I'm more alive and…I didn't want to lose that."

"I see," said Garfield. "I can't imagine what our lives would have been like had I not gone in that gym."

"Well…I guess I wouldn't be as happy as I am now," guessed Tim.

"And I'd still be third world skinny," smiled Garfield.

* * *

When Tim arrived at the boxing club he was immediately summoned to Bruce's office. 

"I need to know if everything is alright with you," said Bruce.

"It is," said Tim. "You don't have to worry about anything."

"I _do_ have to worry about you," said Bruce. "You're running off in the middle of the night-I can't have that."

"I told you," said Tim. "I went to see Garfield. I had to make sure he was alright."

"If he wasn't I'm sure you would have heard from his mother," said Bruce.

"I-I…Bruce…have you ever…_cared_ about someone more than yourself? Have you ever felt that you owed somebody something…a debt that no matter how much they objected, you would feel like you could never repay them?"

Bruce sat in his chair and looked at Tim. "I can only answer the first question."

"And…"

"If I saw an out of control truck heading towards you and Dick, I wouldthrow myself in it's way without a moment's hesitation."

Tim sighed. "Good to know," he said as he headed towards the door.

"I want you to see a psychiatrist," said Bruce.

Tim's jaw dropped. "Screw that," he said without turning around.

"I don't think you're well," said Bruce sternly. "Ever since Garfield announced he had cancer you've seem distracted."

"Distracted my ass," cried Tim as he turned around. "Let's not forget who passed every class last semester."

"You've lost weight," said Bruce.

"How would you know that?"

"I know lots of things and I know when people are in trouble. Ever since Garfield entered chemotherapy you haven't been eating as much. You need therapy."

"I'll go if you go."

Bruce frowned. "I don't need therapy."

"Well I'm not going to do it if you don't."

Before Bruce could get a word in edgewise, Tim exited the office.

"Therapy my ass," he grumbled as he went down the stairs.

"Are you unwell?" asked Kori.

Tim smiled at her. "I'm fine, Kori." He looked down at his knees and then asked, "Do you think I've lost weight?"

Kori nodded. "Most definitely. I have noticed at lunch you do not always finish your meals.Are you planning to enter the featherweight class with Garfield?"

Tim didn't answer. Maybe he did need help…no. There was no way he would go through with anything so…ri-goddamn-diculous.

"May I ask you a question as well, Tim?" asked Kori.

"Yes," said Tim.

"Do you think Garfield would mind if I brought him flowers?"

"No. I think it would brighten up the room. I think there's a gift store at the hospital."

"Glorious," said Kori in her regular Kori-saying-glorious voice.

* * *

Kori spent longer in gift store looking for flowers than any of the others had patience for. 

"Flowers are flowers," said Raven while the boys waited outside. "He's not going to care what they are."

"True," said Kori. "But I would like something he'll appreciate."

Raven sighed. There always had to be a difficult one in the group.

"Are you going to get anything for Garfield?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…we're just friends."

"Well Garfield and I are just friends yet I have no problem getting flowers for him."

"No. You just have a problem _picking _flowers for him."

"That does not answer my question."

"Look, Kori, I'm just not ready for another relationship. I don't want one at the moment. Now if Garfield were to ask me to the prom at the end of the year-I might almost probably say yes."

"You wish for Garfield to ask you to the prom?"

Raven bit her tongue. "No," she said.

"But you only say 'almost probably' when you are a hundred percent certain."

"Have you found the right flowers?"

"Do you think he would like lilies?"

"You bring lilies to a funeral."

* * *

Victor knocked on the door gently and opened it to find Garfield in bed, watching TV with headphones attached to his ears. 

He saw them and with a large smile, shut off the television and pushed it aside.

"Hey," he greeted.

Kori placed the flowers (she had brought a vase from home with her) on the table beside the bed and hugged Garfield.

"Friend, it is good to see you again."

"Yes, it's good to see all of you," said Garfield.

"You have to stay in here for a _week_?" asked Raven. "God, I think I'd go crazy."

"Yea, can we get something to eat, B?" asked Victor. "I'm starving."

Garfield smiled. "Sure, I'm allowed to go down to the cafeteria. But I got to take a wheelchair. They don't want me moving much."

Garfield pushed back the sheets and hopped out of bed and moved to the end of the room where an open and empty wheelchair lay in wait for whoever may use it. As he moved, Garfield could hear a small gasp and small giggles.

"Nice ass," laughed Victor.

_Oh, no!_, thought Garfield. Sure enough he had forgotten about how revealing the gowns are. He grabbed the back of the gown together and turned around.

Tim and Victor were laughing out loud while Kori had a hand over her small smile. Raven's cheeks were as red as a cherry.

"Somebody pass me a robe," said Garfield.

* * *

While holding onto his IV staff, Victor pushed the wheelchair into the elevator. 

"Still think we should have taken the stairs," he said while they waited. "They got good food in there?"

"Well it's the afternoon so my guess is yeah," answered Garfield.

"Tim, you may want a second helping of what you're having," said Raven.

Tim turned to her. "Why's that?"

She pointed to his hand. "I can see your veins. They look like worms."

Tim raised his hands and looked at them. Sure enough, they were visible and they did look like worms.

_Bruce was right._

"Looks like you're getting some competition," Victor whispered to Garfield.

* * *

After an hour and a half with Garfield, the teens returned home. 

Tim stood half naked in front of a mirror, only his boxers covering his groin. He did look thinner. Ribs were a bit more visible as were veins. He was certain that if he tried, he could trace one all throughout his body. He moved towards the bathroom and stepped on the scale. The needle stopped at one 129. Tim gasped. He had almost dropped a whole weight class. Had he lost three more pounds he would be matched with Garfield.

_I've lost almost 13 pounds!_

He quickly redressed and went downstairs to the kitchen where Dick sat at the table, eating a banana and reading the newspaper.

"I hear Bruce wants you in therapy," said Dick.

Tim pulled the chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and pulled the milk out of the fridge.

"Bruce wants a lot of things," mumbled Tim.

"Trust me," said Dick. "It's no big deal. Just go, you'll be fine and then Bruce will get off your ass."

"Why should I trust you?"  
"Cause he's made me do it," Dick said when he turned the paper.

"When?"

"After…"

"_After_…?"

"Nothing."

Tim pulled out the blender. "No, what? Tell me. I don't care. Obviously you know why I'm going-"

"Yeah, cause you think Garfield Logan is the youngest son of God. I mean, he's a cool dude-no doubt about that-but I have no clue as to why you would go out that late."

Tim moved towards another drawer and pulled out a small mixture of chocolate protein powder. "Don't doge this. Why were you in therapy?"

"It was a long time ago," grumbled Dick. "Few years before you came."

"Yea and so?"

Dick looked at Tim. "So it's none of your business. All I'll say is be careful around Bruce the next couple of weeks."

"Why?"

Dick stood up. "I'm not telling you."

"Can you tell me who it involves?"

"Me, Bruce and a lot of empty liquor bottles. Now don't say anything else about anymore-otherwise I'll have to kick your ass."

Dick stormed out of the room.

"OK…that was weird," said Tim to the blender as he filled it with the appropriate contents for a milkshake. It would be one of three he would be having today.

* * *

Bruce finished his seventy-fifth push-up when he heard a knock at the door. 

"Come in," he said while continuing his exercises.

Tim entered his guardian's bedroom to find him wearing black Adidas workout pants and a grey muscle shirt.

"I'll do it," Tim said.

"Do what," Bruce quietly grunted as he pushed up and down.

"Therapy."

Bruce raised an eyebrow but continued.

"I've realized something," said Tim. "I've lost 13 pounds since Gar entered chemo and I need to get that weight back. And maybe I should talk to somebody. But I want to you to know, I'm only going to go once and if I like it, I'll go back for more. Is that OK?"

"That sounds fine," said Bruce. "Is that all?"

Tim hesitated.

_What happened a couple of years ago involving liquor bottles?_

"Yeah, that's it."

* * *

Alfred Pennyworth was what is considered a senior citizen. Well into his 60's, he refused to allow his strength to go away with his youth. 

He jabbed the heavy-bag as he had been for several hours, knowing that he would be left alone in solitude because nobody was that interested in boxing nowadays.

"Looking good, Ali," called a voice.

Alfred turned around slowly. He smiled at who he saw.

"Master Tim."

Tim sighed. "Alf, don't call me that. It makes me sound like I'm some billionaire's son…or a bad rapper."

"Very well," said the Englishman. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to know about secrets," said Tim. "You've known Bruce better than anyone alive."

"True."

"What happened to him a couple of years ago around this time of year? Did he start drinking and if he did, why?"

Alfred looked at the teen with eyes he had never shown the young man before.

"Come, Timothy. Step into my office."

"It's not your office; it's Bruce's."

"Just follow me."

* * *

Ten minutes later, a harsh reality sank into Tim Drake. 

"You're not lying?" he asked Alfred.

Alfred shook his head.

"Can I talk to him about it?"

Alfred nodded. "I think you should. He never talks to anyone about it."

"Will he be mad at you for telling me this?"

Alfred smiled. "Oh, yes. I probably am a dead man already."

* * *

Dick was watching TV when Tim came into the living room and sat down in an opposite chair. 

"I heard you agreed to do therapy. Smart."

"Thanks…"

"What's on your mind?"

"I know the truth."

"What truth."

"The truth you refused to share with me."

Dick shut the TV off.

"How the hell did you find out about-"

"Alfred told me. Somebody had to."

Dick sighed. "Christ…does Bruce know you know?"  
"No…but I want to tell him-"

"Tell him what?" asked Dick fiercely. "Tell him that you know about the dead child he had to find near the mall? Tell him that you know you can't take his place? What the hell do you think you can tell him?"

"I don't know," cried Tim. He stood up and went to the window and looked outside. "How the hell do you bring that up to someone…without opening old wounds."

"You did it just fine with me," said Dick.

Tim turned around and looked at him.

"Were you and he close?"

Dick nodded. "Y-yeah. We were."

"Do you miss him?"

Dick whirled in his seat to face Tim.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him and wish I could kill the bastard who killed him! But I can't! He's gone…Bruce was going to adopt him! Make him his own…" Dick began to sob. "I was going to…I was going to have a little brother."

Tim moved towards the chair and hugged Dick.

"I'm sorry," said Tim. "All the times I wouldn't be like my dad and I still make the people I care about cry."

Tim let go.

"Are you still going to talk to him about it?" asked Dick.

"Not now," said Tim. "After…after my first session."

* * *

"First of all Tim, I want you to feel comfortable." 

Tim sat in a typical therapist style chair that was more like a bed in Tim's eyes. It reminded him of the office used in _The Sopranos_.

The doctor was named Dr. Teal and he looked a few years younger than Bruce. He had brown hair and a clean shaven face with small glasses over his eyes.

"Do you feel comfortable?" he asked.

"I like to walk around naked in my house," replied Tim.

Dr. Teal looked at Tim.

"Excuse me?"

"Like, when I'm home alone…I like to do stuff totally naked…that makes me comfortable."

Dr Teal coughed. "Uh…you weren't expecting that I'd allow-"

"No, no. I just thought you wanted to know what makes me comfortable."

"Ah. Uh-Tim-may I call you that? Good-let's talk about Garfield."

"What about him?"

"Well…who is he?"

"He's my friend."

"When did you first meet him?"

"In November. In the boxing gym. He came in on a Friday afternoon. He had called earlier and…well that's not important."

"Did you speak with him?"

"A little bit-we all did."

"What did you say to him?"

"Uh…oh yeah. I told him that he looked tougher than a kitty cat."

"A kitty cat?"

"See, Victor, my friend had made this joke about Garfield and his name 'cause of the comic and all that. Anyway, I just said he was tougher than a kitty cat."

"Oh. Go on-then what happened?"

"He came back the next day, did roadwork with us. Then he worked with Bruce the rest of the day."

"Did you interact with him at all?"

"Uh…" Tim began to chuckle.

"Something funny?" asked Dr. Teal with a smile.

"Well…it was in the locker room. See, me and Vic were going to hit the showers and in comes Garfield and he's sweating like a hooker in church. So, anyway, he comes in and he's all sweaty and I ask him if he's got a towel and we're taking off our stuff but he's all nervous and like, 'Oh, you guys go ahead. I'll go when you're done' and all that crap. And I mean, we didn't want the guy to feel left out so we insisted that we weren't gonna stare at his junk or make fun of his really skinny body-I mean, we weren't gonna stare at his junk anyway but I think Vic was a bit disappointed he couldn't comment on his physique. I mean, dude, that guy was _thin_. So we hit the showers and he was all cool with that."

Dr Teal scribbled something down in a notebook.

"Wait, what are you writing?" asked Tim.

"You said you liked being naked. Do you like showering?"

"Who doesn't? I mean, besides the French?" Tim began to laugh and stopped when he noticed Teal wasn't. "Oh, come on!That was a joke!"

"Do you like showering with other people?"

Tim frowned. "Uh…wait are we talking girls or guys, cause I would have no trouble showering with a girl."

"Guys."

"Hmmm…OK, I see it more like a…guy thing. Like after a long day, you can just wash all your pain away. I mean…I've never stared at Vic or Gar in the showers and I hope theydo the same. They're my friends and it's like a ritual or a sign that…they're such good friends of mine that I am willing to pull of my boxers, step into a shower area and just clean myself along with them."

He chuckled for a second. "Kind of like monkeys. Except we don't wash each other."

"How did your friendship with Garfield evolve?"

"We just…got to know each other a little better. We hung out, did all sorts of stuff. I gave him my speed-bag for Christmas."

"You gave him yours?"

"Yeah, it was a welcoming present from Bruce when he took me in."

"Why would you give him something so important?"

"It's not that I didn't care. I wanted to show him that…he was always going to be welcome by me and all of us."

"Ah."

"Then I had him and his mom over for Christmas and…he told me he had cancer."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Sad. Angry."

"Why angry? Were you angry at him?"

"No. I was angry at…life. I mean, why give a guy like Gar Logan cancer?"

"After that he entered chemotherapy," Dr. Teal said, avoiding the question.

"Yeah, not right away though."

"What happened when he went to chemo?"

"He…he would come back to the club to work out and…he couldn't do it. It wasn't the same Garfield we all knew. After a while, he would just come, sit on his cot and either keep watching or fall asleep. We didn't mind. It was what made him happy."

"Was it as this point that you stopped eating?"

"I never stopped eating…I just didn't eat as much as I usually did."

"Why?"

Tim sighed. "I don't know. I was worried."

"Worried about what?"

"Garfield."

"Because he had cancer?"

"Yes."

"And because it looked like he wasn't getting better."

"Yes."

"Tell me about the hospital."

"I went there after midnight to see him."

"Why did you go so late?"

Tim remained quiet.

"Tim?"

"I had a bad dream."

"What happened."

"Gar died."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Did you see him die or did you just find out?"

"I just found out."

"So you went to see him and he was alive."

"Yeah, and we talked for a while and he was in a lot of pain and…he said he was ready to die. 'I'm ready to go' were his exact words."

"Did you think that was going to happen?"

"Maybe…"

"What happened after that?"

"Whatever I say here is confidential, right?"

"Right."

"And if I did something I didn't want anyone to know about…you would keep it to yourself."

"Of course."

Tim sighed again. "Garfield fell asleep-or I thought he did-and…I told him he was my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Like…not by blood but by…you know."

"I have an idea."

"And…then I kissed him," said Tim quickly.

Dr. Teal raised one of his two eyebrows.

"You kissed him? Where?"

"On his forehead."

"Was it passionate? Like when you kiss a girl?"

"No. It was…I think the term is a peck."

"Tim, I want to remind you that everything you say here is in confidence."

"I know."

"I'm going to ask you some questions that you can answer truthfully and I won't tell anyone."

"Go ahead, Doctor."

"Are you a homosexual?"

Tim leapt off the chair.

"NO!"

"Bisexual?"

"No!"

Teal frowned. "Metrosexual?"

"I don't even know what that is!"

"OK, Tim. Sit down. I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

Tim sat down in the chair.

"Why did you kiss him?" asked Teal.

"I…I love him. I love him like he's my own brother and…he was almost like a brother before I found out he had cancer."

"Why do you care so much about Garfield?"

"I've lost everyone I ever cared about," said Tim. "My mom, my dad. And then I get taken in by Bruce and…I think…I thought Gar was going to die and leave me."

"You have abandonment issues it sounds like."

"I never knew my mom," Tim said out of nowhere. "My dad raised me."

"Is your father still alive?"

"I think so. I wanted to go look for him but…"

"But?"

"Bruce won't allow it. He says that he's probably not in Gotham but I don't care. I want to go and find him."

"Are you gaining back weight?"

"Yes. I'm drinking milkshakes."

"Have you told anyone how you feel about Garfield Logan?"

"No."

"Have you told Garfield?"

"He was…sort of awake when I told him and…did that."

"How did he react?"

"He didn't care. Said that I did what any other brother would have done in my place."

"Did you tell him that you loved him like a brother?"

"No. I didn't."

"Because I think he should know. Brothers…even if they don't get along all the time, they still love each other."

"You want me to tell another guy that I love him?"

"Tell him you love him as a brother and nothing else."

"OK…that might work. But I'm doing it in private."

"Do you feel the way you do about Garfield with you other friends? What about Victor?"

"Victor is one of my best friends," explained Tim. "We've boxed for a couple of years and we grew really close but with us…it was always a 'really good friend' thing. I mean, I don't consider Victor my brother. I think he might be freaked out by it. Besides, we don't look like we could be brothers."

"How so?"

"Well, he's black, huge, bald. I'm white, not so huge and I got hair on my head. Sometimes I think he shaves _all _the hair off his body."

"Ah. You don't have a problem with black people?"

"No."

"Good."

* * *

Bruce sat in the waiting room with an _Entertainment Weekly _in his hands when the door opened. He saw Tim come out. 

"Well?" he asked.

"I'm legally insane," declared Tim. "Can we pick up straightjackets on our way home?"

"Mr. Wayne, could you step in here for a moment?" asked Dr Teal as he stuck his head out of his office.

Bruce entered the office and sat down in the chair.

"What can I do for you, Dr. Teal?"

"Mr. Wayne, I'm looking out for the best of Tim's interests. From what I've gathered from our hour…I've learnt-or rather concluded-that since most of his biological family is gone, he's been trying to create a surrogate family."

"We're his family," defended Bruce. "He's grown up with me and Dick and we've raised him like family."

"Have you legally adopted Tim?"

Bruce shuffled in his seat. "No."

"Have you considered it."

"I'd prefer not to answer that."

"Fine. But here is what I'm suggesting-just that. I want you…to take Tim to Gotham and you'll help him find his father."

"What!"

"I take it you're not fond of the idea?"

"From what I've gathered from Tim, his father was a monster!"

"People can be reformed, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce buried his face into his hands. "Oh, God."

"Is there a problem?"

"You're one of them," groaned Bruce.

"One of who?"

Bruce lifted his head. "You're one of those people who thinks that even the worst criminals can be rehabilitated. And when it's time for them to be executed, you say, you're not killing the man you sentenced so and so years ago."

"Oh…sorry?"

Bruce got up and went to the door. "If we were to find Tim's father…what would I do?"

"You should discuss that with Tim."

The drive home was quiet.

"So…what did you discuss?" asked Bruce.

"That's personal," replied Tim. He was quiet for five seconds before asking, "Do you think I'm going crazy?"

Bruce looked at Tim. "No."

"Good."

Bruce pulled over the car.

"Wha-what are you doing?" asked Tim. He moved to undo his seatbelt but Bruce put his hand on Tim's.

"Listen to me," said Bruce. "The doctor recommended that I do something that…I entirely don't approve of."

"Marijuana?"

"No, not marijuana. I-he wants me to take you to Gotham…and help you find your father."

Tim's eyes went wide. He pushed Bruce's hands out of the way, undid his seatbelt and quickly exited the car. He bent over and began to breathe deeply.

"Oh, God. God, God, God."

"Are you all right?" Bruce asked from his seat.

Tim stepped back in. "Y-yeah. Yeah, I think I'm OK." He closed the door and Bruce resumed driving.

"You're not kidding or anything?" asked Tim. "I mean-you're serious?"

"Yes," said Bruce. "If we find your father…I'll help him get back on his feet."

Tim's face lit up. "R-really? You'll help him get a job…and a place of his own?"

Bruce nodded. "I will."

Tim gave a content sigh and sat back in his seat, the thoughts of living with his father filling his mind.

"But we're going to do this after Garfield has his operation," said Bruce.

"OK."

* * *

Garfield's operation was in two days. 

Tim stood at the speed bag and struck it. Every time he felt his fist come into contact with the leather sack he felt himself swell up with joy. He had kept his upcoming trip to Gotham a secret from everyone but Dick but every time he saw Victor, Kori or Raven he just wanted to shout the good news to them at the top of his lungs.

"Eyes front," called Bruce at the front of the gym.

Tim turned around and saw a large pile of papers in his hand. He smiled. It was the State Championship form.

"You all know what this is," said Bruce. "And…I know you're all ready. I know that I've been somewhat…restricting when it came to this event in the past. However…I think you're as ready as ever. I want all of you signing up."

"Yo, what about Gar?" asked Victor.

Bruce sighed. "I'm not sure if he'll be in condition come summer."

"Oh, hell yeah he will."

Victor moved over towards Alfred's desk and picked up the new phone Alfred had gotten himself. He turned on the speaker phone option and dialled the number to the hospital. After going through the directory, he announced who he wished to speak to.

There were three rings when there was a click and Garfield's mechanical voice said, "Hello?"

"Yo, BB! What's happening?"

"Uh-Victor…how good to hear from you." He chuckled and said, "Is this important?"

The others began to gather around the speakerphone.

"Hell yeah, it's important," said Victor.

"Can it wait?"

"No it can't. State Championship forms are here and we need to sign you up. You in?"

"Uh…Vic…oh yeah…uh, I don't got that on my mind right now."

"WHAT?"

"Look…this isn't the best time to discuss this."

"What can be going on that you don't wanna talk about the Championship?"

"Uh…remember what you promised me before I left for the hospital?"

Victor thought about this for a second and then the promise popped back into his head.

"Gar, listen, if there is a hot nurse giving you a sponge bath right now, say…pancakes!"

"Pancakes," said Garfield, "with a lot and I mean _a lot_ of sweet syrup."

"Oh, that sounds good," said Victor. "By the way, you're on speaker phone."

The dial tone filled the air.

* * *

"Who was that?" asked the nurse, Natasha. 

"Oh…just my friends," replied Garfield as she scrubbed his lower back. Beads of water dripped down his back and fell onto the mattress.

"Does this feel good?" Natasha asked.

"Ohhhh yeah!"

* * *

Victor shut off the speakerphone. 

"Little dude's getting laid," smiled Victor.

"The nurse is going to have intercourse with him?" asked Kori.

"No, I'm just kidding," Victor said. "But as soon as we get out, we'll sign him up."

* * *

The day of the operation, Jump City High School made an announcement asking for a moment of silence in prayers for Garfield's well being. It was however belated since Garfield went in at noon and the announcement came at two thirty. 

Tim was doing pad work with Bruce in the ring when the phone rang.

Alfred rushed away from the ring with his camera and picked up the phone.

"_Titans Boxing Club_," he said quickly. "Yes…yes…how long? Right now? I'll tell them. Thank you." He hung up and announced to the gym, "Garfield Logan has just exited surgery."

A loud cheer went up throughout the gym along with applause and the sound of gloves smashing together-a substitute for those would could not clap.

"And…he has apparently requested your presence," Alfred added.

"Why the hell do we gotta buy him stuff?" asked Victor.

"He means 'presence' as in being present," said Raven. "He wants us to go to the hospital."

"Like…now?"

"Can we do that?" asked Tim.

Bruce nodded. "Go."

* * *

Sally Logan sat next to her only son as he lay in his hospital bed. He would drift in and out of consciousness and whenever he fell asleep he would have a grin on his face. 

There was a knock at the door.

Sally tuned and saw, Victor, Tim, Kori, Dick and Raven in the doorway. All of them in t-shirt, gym shorts or sweatpants. Some of them even had their hand-wraps still on.

"How is he?" asked Victor as he came along side the bed.

"Pancakes," moaned Garfield.

"He's been doing that for a while," explained Sally. "Every so often he'll blurt out anything. At times he seems self aware but then…he's almost intoxicated."

Victor gently shook Garfield's shoulder. "Hey, BB. How you doing?"

Garfield opened his eyes and looked at his friend. "You smell…of boxing! You've been boxing while I've been working day and night?"

"What?"

"Don't do that…you've been boxing. You smell of it!" He paused and then said, "It's a nice smell; I like it."

Victor frowned. He had never seen someone after surgery before and didn't know the affects of anaesthetic.

"Uh…OK. Other than that…how do you feel?"

A big grin appeared on Garfield's face. "Hot," he said.

"Should we open a window?" asked Sally.

"Burning hot," said Garfield. "Scorching, white on fire hot!"

Sally put her hand on Garfield's forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"I'm talking about me," explained Garfield. "Where's Natasha…? I need a sponge bath and she's got a nice ass!"

Victor, Tim and Dick burst out laughing.

"I think he's all better," said Raven.

Garfield turned his head towards he voice and opened his eyes.

"Raven…is that you?" he asked.

She smiled and got close to him.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Do you want to see me naked?" he asked. "Cause I think you'd like that."

"Oh, God," Raven said quickly, turning away with crimson cheeks.

"Not God," said Garfield. "Jesus." He smiled and then sang, "Jesus! You've started to believe/the things they say of You/You really do believe/This talk of God is true!"

The singing was somewhat off note and out of tune.

"He's a lot better when not under the influence of anaesthetics," defended Kori. "That is his first song from _Jesus Christ Superstar_."

"He told me before he went in that you had something for him," Sally told them.

"Yeah," said Victor. "The State Championships is coming up and we all know how much ass he would kick-I mean butt. We all know how much butt he would kick if he were to sign up."

"I don't sign anything without my lawyer," slurred Garfield as he started to drift back into the world of the sleeping. The large smile still on his face.

"As soon as he's awake again and fully aware, I'll ask him about it," assured Sally.

"Am I alive?" moaned Garfield.

Sally sat down in the chair and ran her hand through her son's hair. "Yes, sweetie. You're all better and your friends are here."

"Is Timmy-Timmy-Tim-bo here?" he asked groggily.

The others looked at Tim and smiled at his new nickname.

"Uh, yeah…I'm here," answered Tim.

"I need a second opinion…am I alive?"

Tim looked at the instruments hooked up to his friends and saw the good signs.

"Oh, yeah," enforced Tim. "You're as good as ever."

"Good…because I need you to do something…"

Everyone in the room now felt that something awkward was going on.

"W-what is that?" asked Tim.

"Your mission…should you choose to accept it…and you better…or else I'll kick you in the nuts and you're fired…is to…destroy the letters."

Although his face didn't show it, Tim had grasped enough out of Grade 12 drama to know how to act like you didn't know what someone was talking about.

However he did know what Garfield was talking about. The letters that Garfield had left under his mattress in his bedroom for all of them. He wanted him to destroy them. But he couldn't let anyone know about them because then they would want to know what he wrote to them. He had to quickly cover up what was going on.

"The letters of the alphabet?" asked Tim.

Garfield's large grin was the only answer he got.

"Maybe we should come back when he's not hopped out," suggested Tim.

"If you were to destroy the letters of the alphabet, episodes of Sesame Street would be brought to us by nothing," said Kori.

* * *

Sally Logan had been home for five minutes when she got a buzz at the intercom. She had come back to check the messages, pick up mail and see if anything could be done before she went back before visiting hours expired in two hours and four minutes. 

"Yes?" she asked the intercom.

"Mrs. Logan? It's Tim Drake. I don't have time to explain but I need to see you right now!"

"All right," said Sally and she buzzed him in.

Twenty seconds later, a panting Tim Drake came through her already open door.

"What's the matter, Tim?" she asked as he came in.

"Look…I know this is going to sound strange…but I need to get into Garfield's room."

Sally frowned. "Why?"

"He…the letters he was talking about…they were letters to us."

"What do you mean?"

"I…Garfield told me that he wrote letters to us before he went into the hospital and since he's better…he wants me to destroy them."

"Oh…" said Sally. "So…you're here to…?"

"Destroy them."

"Oh…that's it?"

"That's it."

"Did he write one for me?"

"I don't know…if he did…do you want me to give it to you?"

"No," she answered quickly. "I know how my son feels about me and I think it would make me cry. And I've done enough of that."

* * *

Garfield's room was your average sort of room. A poster here and there (Muhammad Ali) and the speed bag Tim had given him on the wall. There was a desk where a nice computer lay in wait for someone in use. A made bed also remained patient for someone to sleep in it again. 

Tim moved towards the bed and pushed his hand through the mattress, feeling around for anything. Then he felt something. He placed it between his index and middle finger and pulled out a bright yellow file folder. He opened up the file folder and saw several tan coloured envelopes, each of them with names clearly written on them.

"I want to thank you," Sally said from the doorway.

Tim gasped and turned around. "What for?" he asked as he cradled the envelopes.

"Garfield…said that if it weren't for you and the others at the club…he wouldn't be who he is today." She chuckled and wiped away a coming tear. "I'm not sure if you know this but…he thinks of you as a brother."

Tim smiled. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh…thanks."

"What are you going to do with the letters?"

"I have an idea."

* * *

Tim Drake had parked his car at the docks. He took the envelopes he had in his hand and threw them into the water. He watched them float for a while, knowing sooner or later they would end up fish food and illegible. 

He returned to his car and sighed. His mission was accomplished.

_Somewhat accomplished_.

On the passenger seat was a tan envelope with the name 'Tim Drake' on it.

* * *

Tim sat in his room on his bed and stared at the envelope. 

_What to do what to do what to do?_

He had made a promise…however this was something that he just had to see. He would have to keep it to himself, hide it very carefully so not to be found and never speak of it's contents to anyone.

_Dear Tim,_

_If you're reading this then I'm afraid I have some bad news…I'm dead. Huh, I tried to make a joke in there but I couldn't find one that worked…oh well._

_Before I get started, I want you to know what I'm leaving you. The first is the speed bag because it is rightfully yours and I wouldn't want anyone else to have it. Second, any boxing literature I have is also yours. I'm giving Victor the movies because I think he'll like them more. And I think that's all you need. I don't want you to get greedy in my absence._

_Now let's get serious._

_First off, Tim, I want you to know what an honour it has been to know you and to have the privilege of calling you my friend._

_Ever since I came into the boxing club that cold November day, as I walked up the stairs to Bruce's office and you stared at me from the speed bag stand, I thought to myself, 'One way or another… that guy is going to end up robbing me.' Ha! See, I knew I could make a joke! OK, to be serious I was actually thinking, 'That guy is going to end up being my friend.'  
Who would know that I was right?  
You've always treated me as an equal, never talked down to me, never made me feel that I didn't belong in your clique (were we ever a clique?) because I was a novice boxer and not as good as you guys. And that's why you, Victor and Dick are Kings in my eyes (the girls are queens naturally). Actually Bruce is more like the King and Alfred is Merlin. OK, you guys are knights and the girls are queens. And I'm glad that you welcomed me into your kingdom. I was a skinny, shy little guy when I came in. I know that thanks to you, I'm entering heaven stronger, wiser, confident and more thankful to God that our paths should cross._

_I hope this doesn't change your opinion of me, but I've always regarded you as a brother. My big brother who would always look out for me, keep me safe and remind me if I were ever lost a fight (however as of the writing this letter, I remain undefeated) that I would always be a champion._

_I know that it probably wasn't easy to deal with my death, and I'm sorry that I had to leave all of you so suddenly, but I want you to know I'll always be watching over you. Please continue boxing, Tim. I'll miss you and the money I could have made betting on you._

_I'm going to quote something I read once ago, that sums up when we first met:_

'_In that book, which is memory, on the first page of the chapter-which is the day I met you-appear the words, "Here begins a new life."'_

_So thank you once again and forever. _

_Your friend and brother,_

_Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan._

Tim gasped as he read the last lines and bit his trembling lip. He slipped the letter back into the envelope from where he took it and slipped it under his mattress.

* * *

Bruce Wayne was reading a spy thriller when he heard an knock at the door. 

"Come in," he called.

Tim came into the bedroom and sat down.

"Bruce…I found something out and…I need to talk to you about it."

Bruce frowned. "What is it?"

"I need you to tell me about Jason."

The frown on Bruce's face got deeper. He never thought he would have to talk openly about his former ward.

"What about him?"

"I want you to know…I understand why you got so worried about me going out without telling you and-"

"I always thought I would never have this talk with you," Bruce interrupted. "And yet I also knew that I would."

Tim remained quiet.

"I saved Jason…the same way I saved you," said Bruce. "He tried to steal a tire off my car and when I confronted him…he fought me. Almost fractured my jaw but I stopped him. I got him help and…" Bruce's lip began trembling.

"We don't have to-" began Tim.

"No," insisted Bruce. "We should talk about this. I took Jason Todd in as my own and…he was a good boxer. He said that he wanted to be called 'Robin' too one day. Then…one night…he went out to do roadwork and…" Bruce let out a sob before continuing. "He…he called me twenty minutes later. It was getting dark fast and he asked me to go pick him up."

* * *

Bruce Wayne picked up the ringing telephone. 

"Hello?"

"Bruce?" asked the young voice. It sounded about almost fifteen. "It's Jay."

"What's the matter, Chum?" asked Bruce, calling his ward by his seldom known nickname.

"Ca-can you come pick me up? It got pretty dark and…I-I don't want to walk home."

"OK," said Bruce. "If that's what you want. Where are you?"

"I'm near the new mini-mall site," said Jason. "Could you hurry?"

"OK," Bruce answered. "I'll be there."

"Thanks, Bruce."

* * *

Seven minutes later, Bruce Wayne got out of his car near the area where Jason Todd had called from. The boy was nowhere to be seen. 

"Jay," he called out. "Jason? Where are you?"

That was when Bruce heard it.

The laughing.

That horrible, _horrible _laughing.

It seemed near but it also seemed to be fading.

Bruce looked out towards the mini-mart construction site.

_Go there_, a voice in his mind told him. _You need to go there!_

Bruce ran. He didn't know why. He just knew things weren't right. Jason wasn't there and everything seemed-

Bruce screamed when he saw Jason's body in the construction site. His face bloody and bludgeoned with torn clothes and ripped skin.

He ran to his car and picked out his cell phone and dialled 911. To this day, Bruce can't remember what he or the operator on the other end had said. All he remembered hearing was that ambulances were on the way.

He dashed back towards Jason and held the boy in his arms, shaking him, begging God to let him live, to let him take his place.

"Bruce…" wheezed the boy.

"Yes," sobbed Bruce. "I'm here…I'm here, Chum. Who did this to you?"

"The…clown…did it."

Bruce held Jason close to him. "I'm so sorry, Jay. I love you…please, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry…" begged the boy wearily. "I love you too…Dad."

Jason let out a whimper that reminded Bruce of an animal and then stopped bleeding.

By the time ambulances arrived, Bruce had been doing mouth to mouth resuscitations for two minutes.

* * *

"The doctors tried for twenty minutes," said Bruce. "He was just beat up too bad." 

At this point, Tim had his arm over Bruce's back.

"After that…I went downhill," continued Bruce. "I began drinking. I would look for a fight anywhere. I wanted to get revenge for Jason so bad it burned my soul every day that I knew his killer got to stay alive."

"Did they find him?"

Bruce shook his head. "The police know he was killed by the Joker gang. A few of them were here at the time and left after the murder. They went back to Gotham."

The Joker gang was a problem in Gotham today and Tim considered himself lucky he got out early when he did.

"How did you get better?" asked Tim.

Bruce sighed. "I don't think I ever fully recovered from it. It haunts me to this day. But…I told myself that Jason wouldn't want me to honour his memory by drinking my life away. But…I think God helped me too."

"God?"

Bruce nodded. "He presented me with redemption. I pretended not to notice it at first but after a while…I knew that I would never be able to live with myself if I let this go."

"What was it?" asked Tim.

Bruce looked at him.

"It was you."

Tim smiled and hugged Bruce. "Are we still going to go to Gotham?"

Bruce nodded. "We can go tomorrow. Alfred and Dick can look after things while we're gone. We'll only be a day or two."

As Tim was about to leave Bruce called his name.

"Who told you?" he asked.

Tim shrugged. "Alfred."

Bruce smiled. "He's a dead man," smiled Bruce.

"Oddly enough, he said the exact same thing."

* * *

A day after Garfield's surgery, his doctor, Dr. Klein entered the room where he found his patient and his mother. 

"Moment of truth," said Garfield. "Well…positive or negative?"

"We've gone over the tests, Garfield…and we have some bad news."

Sally gasped and Garfield put his hand on her shoulder.

"We have to release you and be rid of your loveable humour. As of right now, you are one hundred percent cancer free! You can go home in three days. We just want to do some observations-but otherwise, you're fine."

Garfield fell back into the pillow and laughed. "I did it," he smiled. "Champion of the medical world!"

* * *

Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake were on the highway for two hours when they got a call from Alfred, telling them the good news. 

Tim smiled at the good news.

"Bruce…how long until we reach Gotham?"

"Not for a while. Why don't you go to sleep? I'll wake you when we're there."

* * *

Gotham City's sky was most peculiar. Even when it was a hot summer afternoon where children allowed themselves to be sprayed by water from a fire hydrant, it still had a film noir look about it. Almost like day was night. 

The two had left in the early morning so they booked into a hotel, knowing that you don't search for a person expecting to find them within two hours.

"I'd like to rent a room," said Bruce. "For two people."

"Whoo-hoo!" cheered Tim. "These guys got an indoor pool! I told you I was doing the right thing bringing your swimsuit," cried Tim from the opposite end of the ground floor.

Bruce sighed. As mature a person Tim was-he always had these childlike outbursts of emotion. It reminded him so much of Jason.

* * *

The first thing Bruce did as he and Tim settled into their room was get into some sweatpants, take off his sweater and shadowbox. 

"Why are you doing this now?" asked Tim.

"I never did it in the morning," explained Bruce. "Give me two minutes and we can go."

"OK…"

"Where do you suggest we look first?"

"You're asking me where we look?"

"You lived here."

"OK…I would suggest that we go back to where I used to live. Maybe…Mr. Mobutu's seen him."

* * *

The building that Tim lived in seemed to have been frozen in time. It looked the same and Tim could smell that it smelt the same as the last time he was there. 

"Do you want me to come in with you?" asked Bruce as they got out of the car.

"Yeah," answered Tim.

As they stepped in, snow that had fallen two days ago crunched under their feet.

Tim pulled open and saw a large Jamaican man sitting at the front desk while working on a computer (The man was playing Solitaire).

Approaching the desk, Tim already recognized the man who had been his former superintendent.

"Mr. Mobutu?" asked Tim.

Mobutu looked at the boy and his face slowly morphed from that which contained no interest to a face that showed joy and surprise.

"Tee-mee?" he asked with his thick accent.

Tim smiled and extended his hand. "I'm so glad you remember me."

"Where have you been?" asked Mobutu. He looked over at Bruce. "Has he been taking care of you?"

"Great care," said Tim. "He saved me. I'm a boxer now."

"A boxer!" exclaimed Mobutu. "What do you know? But what are you doing back here, Tee-mee? This still a dangerous place. Those gangs try to give me trouble but I keep them away."

"Good," said Tim. "I'm…looking for my father."

Mobutu's face fell. "Oh…yeah. I seen him around."

Tim's face lit up. "You've seen my dad?"

"Yeah. I tried to give him a place but…he lives in a shabby place on Napier Ave."

Tim smiled. "Thank you. It was good to see you again."

"Tee-mee," called Mobutu. "I know he's your papa but you have to know…he still look the same."

* * *

Napier Avenue was one of the filthiest neighbourhoods in the city. 

Bruce was certain he heard a faint gunshot when he put the car in park.

"This is the only place on the block," said Tim as they entered the building.

There was a man behind the front desk.

"What'dya want?" he barked. "I ain't got no room!"

"We demand to see Stephen Drake," said Tim sternly.

"Who the hell are you?"

"We're with the FBI," barked Bruce back. He slammed his hands on the front desk. "And if you don't tell us where Drake is-"

The man pointed at Tim. "He ain't with the FBI! He probably doesn't even have his pubes yet!"

Bruce leapt over the desk and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt.

"Listen to me, scumbag! You either tell us where Drake is or we'll take out a warrant and have this place stripped apart looking for him!"

"4-B! 4-B," yelled the man in terror.

* * *

As they walked up the stairs-the place had no elevator-Tim quietly asked Bruce why he said they were FBI. 

"I always liked the FBI," replied Bruce.

As they came to 4-B, Tim began to breathe deeply. It looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

"Are you all right?" asked Bruce. "Do you want to go through with this?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah."

He knocked slowly on the door.

There was the sound of a groan.

Tim knocked again.

"Go away, bitch!" spat the man on the other end.

Bruce stepped forward and slowly opened the door.

"Stephen Drake?" he called into the messy apartment.

"Who wants to know?" asked the man with a syrupy voice.

Tim and Bruce stepped into the room.

On the bed was a man with blue jeans and a wife-beater who had the same dark hair as Tim though with patches of white on the side. He was built and was probably a heavyweight, though he never boxed.

This was Stephen 'Shifty' Drake.

"What do you want?" asked Stephen.

Tim stepped closer.

"Dad?" he asked.

Stephen focused his eyes on the teenager and then they went as big as dinner plates.

"Oh, Christ," he groaned. He fell back onto the bed and put his hands over his face. "Oh, no, no, no, no!" He came back up again and looked at his son. "It's you, ain't it?"

Tim smiled and nodded. "It's me, dad. I'm here to-"

"I thought you were dead," said Stephen as he got up and went to the window. "Thought they would have killed you since they couldn't get me."

"T-they did come after me…but they didn't find me."

Stephen turned around and looked at Bruce. "And who the hell are you? Children's Services or something?"

"I'm Bruce Wayne," said Bruce, stepping forward to stay close to Tim. "I've been looking over Tim for a few years."

Stephen sneered. "Looks like you did an OK job with him. Though he looks like a fag with those clothes on."

"Dad," said Tim, ignoring the insult. "I'm here to help you."

"Help me? How?"

"Bruce is willing to help you find a job and get back on your feet-"

"I don't need a job!" shouted Stephen. "So long as I got my welfare check, I don't need shit!"

"Dad," pleaded Tim. "I want to help you. I want to be a family again!"

"Damn it! That's not what I want!" roared Stephen. "I didn't want no son. Neither did your old lady but she got pregnant anyway." Stephen sat down on the bed again and began chuckling. "You were a mistake," he laughed.

Tears began to form in Tim's eyes. "Dad…"

"But she insisted we don't kill you because she was Catholic. Then she goes gives birth to you and then dies! So I got's to take care of the mistake! Why do you really think I left! Think it was just because of the money? I told them that they would find the money here. But they were just supposed to find you since I had the money. Stupid bastards couldn't find a goddamn kid and kill him!"

Tim had heard enough. Mobutu was right: his father was the same.

Tim turned and ran away. He dashed down the stairs so fast he couldn't believe it when he found himself outside again.

"Tim," called Bruce from the room.

"So…how about you give me the money…and you keep the kid?" suggested Stephen.

Bruce turned back to him. "That seems like a reasonable arrangement," he said as he moved towards the bed.

As Stephen stood up to accept the coming check, he soon found himself turned over on the other side of the bed with blood coming out of his nose.

"Tim was no mistake!" growled Bruce. "He's become a boxer and a better human being than you ever will."

* * *

Tim ran. 

_Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrun_

Snow crunched under his feet and he almost slipped on ice but he didn't care.

He ran into an army and began coughing when he felt that he couldn't handle it anymore.

That was when he felt the metal hit his head.

He fell onto the snowy ground and heard shrill laughing. He felt his back get kicked and his body go limp. Soon he was elevated very lightly off the ground and felt himself thrown in the back of a car.

* * *

Bruce exited the apartment and saw no trace of Tim. He got into his car and quickly decided on a direction. He went the opposite way Tim had gone.

* * *

They had beaten him. 

The Jokers.

Now Tim felt himself strapped to a table, he kept struggling but he had been robbed of his strength.

"This won't hurt a bit," said one of them, with his pale face and green hair. "But then again what do I know."

He had put two clamps onto the table. It was then that Tim recognized them as voltage tongs. He began to panic.

_Don'thurtmedon'thurtmedon'thurtme!_

The tongs were placed close to his body but they weren't touching him. Tim knew that he would be feeling a shock right now but there was nothing. Had they beaten his body so badly that it was dull to any other pain.

"Where's the switch?" he heard one of them ask.

Tim felt the electricity surge throughout his body. He pushed his body up as far as the restraints would allow him and opened his mouth to scream.

Nothing came out.

There was a squeak and then Tim could finally scream.

* * *

An hour had passed. 

Bruce couldn't find any sign of Tim.

He called the hotel twice and nobody had responded.

Panic was starting to set in. Tim had just lost hope of being with his father again and now Bruce had lost Tim.

* * *

Tim was going to die. 

They were going to kill him.

Just like they killed the brother he never knew.

They were going to kill him.

He could sense it.

They way that they looked at him.

He had seen their faces and could ID them-though they all wore clown makeup. He had been shocked for almost a half hour and as soon as that was done, death was a welcomed relief.

"Undo the top," he heard one of them say. There wasn't any light, only that which surrounded the table and the rest was in shadows.

Tim felt cold hands work the straps around his wrists. As soon as they were free he tried to move them but he felt his shirt being lifted over his head.

Tim instantly began to struggle but firm hands held him down. He closed his eyes. Thinking they were going to run a blade across his chest.

Cold.

Wet.

Tim looked down at his chest.

They were painting it white.

It was at this point that he began to cry after he noticed a female Joker was working on pulling his pants down.

* * *

Bruce hesitated going to the police. 

They were incompetent. Truly incompetent.

He continued to drive…hoping that today wouldn't mirror that horrible day years ago when he went looking for another child under his care.

* * *

Tim was naked. 

Naked on the ground, his skin (all of it-even the areas where Tim refused to acknowledge)white and his hair they painted green with actual paint.

Laughter was all around but it wasn't the type Tim liked. They were ridiculing him. As soon as they were done paining him they beat him.

_I'm going to die naked and hideous. I'm going to die…_

The beating stopped.

Tim felt his boxers being slipped over his crotch and rear.

"Nice undies," snorted one of the Jokers.

Soon all of his clothes had been restored to his body.

A final kick in the back, and Tim felt himself being lifted off the cold ground.

* * *

It had been two hours. 

Bruce had called home to ask Dick if Tim had called but there was no answer at home. Dick must have gone out or something.

Bruce was starting to get tired.

_I can't just go to sleep and not be out there looking for the boy_, he told himself. He stopped in a restaurant and ordered a quick cup of coffee to go.

Just as he was about to start up the car again, Bruce realized something. The last time he was in Gotham, he had come to this very restaurant and…it was later that he met Tim.

Feeling nostalgic and a need to stretch his legs, Bruce began walking down the neighbourhood.

_Only a few minutes from that alley_

Snow crunched under his feet as he sipped his coffee.

When he got to it, Bruce stood at the end.

_What would have happened if…I didn't decide to check up on him? Would he be alive? Would _I _be alive?_

There was a rustle. Then another and another.

_Stray dog_, smiled Bruce. He walked towards the alley where he heard the sound. Coming behind the dumpster.

Brown coffee mixed with white snow when Bruce came to the source of the noise.

It was Tim.

Cuts all over his body. His skin painted white, his lips smeared with lipstick and his hair was green.

"HELP!" cried Bruce from the alley. He got down and cradled Tim in his arms.

"Jesus, Timmy! Oh, God, don't do this to me again! HELP! SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!"

Tim groaned and awoke.

"Is that you, Bruce?" he asked.

Bruce nodded.

"Hey, do you need help?" someone asked at the top of the alley.

"Call an ambulance," cried Bruce. "He's been attacked."

* * *

Bruce sat in a waiting room for thirty minutes when the doctor came out. He had spent those thirty minutes answering questions of the Gotham PD. It seems that Tim had become the latest victim of a growing crime epidemic. Jokers were kidnapping boys and girls off the streets, giving them the same treatment and then dumping them off somewhere where they would either be found alive or dead. 

"How is he?" asked Bruce.

The doctor sighed. "He's a very tough young man. To my surprise he only had bumps and bruises. No internal bleeding, no broken bones. We've washed the paint out of his skin and hair. They painted his entire body."

"Was he…did they rape him?"

The doctor sighed. "We examined him thoroughly and we find no evidence of sexual assault of any kind."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course," said the doctor. He called over a nurse. "Could you please take Mr. Wayne to see his son."

"He…he's not my son," said Bruce quietly.

* * *

Tim Drake stared at the ceiling. 

_I'm nothing now…the past is gone…the hope is dead…everything is…useless. I'm unwanted…_

"Tim," whispered Bruce from the doorway.

Tim looked at the man.

_He doesn't want me to stay…I'll move out when we get home_

Bruce moved close to him. Tears were in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I never should have let that happen to you."

Bruce pulled Tim into a hug and began to cry on his shoulder.

Tim was quiet. His thinking had become so warped he didn't know what was true anymore.

_He's saying that…they all say that. _

"It was my fault," said Tim. "I deserved it."

* * *

After a few more hours of observation, Tim and Bruce returned to the hotel. They ordered room service and ate quietly. 

"Can I go swimming?" asked Tim meekly.

Bruce nodded.

He went with Tim in the pool. They swam back and forth between the pool and at times Tim would submerge himself underwater, holding his breath until he forced himself up or he didn't and Bruce had to pull him up.

All night, Bruce watched him with careful eyes.

_Are you trying to commit suicide? _he wanted to ask.

"Mind if I go sit in the sauna?" asked Tim after an hour in the water.

"I'll go with you," said Bruce. He then noticed something: Tim hadn't smiled or laughed since he ran away today.

_Make him laugh…make him smile. Make him show that he's himself._

"I-uh-promise to keep my suit on," Bruce said. "I doubt you'd want to see me naked in a sauna."

"Whatever makes you comfortable," said Tim gloomily. "That's what Dr. Teal said."

_Smooth, Wayne_, thought Bruce. _Just smooth.

* * *

_

Tim showered upon coming back to the room. No matter how hard he scrubbed at his body, he couldn't feel clean. They had defiled him. He would never be the same again. He observed his body under the wet glow of the water. He hated himself. He was filth.

Vermin.

Scum.

Rotten.

He screamed and punched the wall of the shower.

Bruce knocked on the door.

"Are you all right?" he asked urgently.

"Yes," spat Tim as he held his fist. "I just…got splash of really cold water."

* * *

Bruce moved away from the door, knowing that Tim still hadn't learnt how to bullshit him. He moved back to the phone and continued talking to Dick. 

"I think…I think he needs a lot of support," he told him. "He's going to need his friends when he gets back."

"Poor little guy," sighed Dick. "Finds out his dad hates him and…_this_ happens to him. God…hey, maybe this'll cheer him up."

"What is it?"

"Sally called. They're letting Garfield out in two days and she's planning a surprise party for when he gets back. That'll be sure to…liven him up."

"We'll see," said Bruce.

He heard the shower shut off.

"I have to go."

"OK. You'll be back tomorrow?"

"Yes. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Tim came out of the shower in a wife beater and boxers. They were a different pair than the ones he had on earlier. Those ones were old and had eight balls on them. He had thrown them away after tearing them to shreds. These had red iron crosses on them.

"Mind if I watch TV?" he asked.

Bruce nodded. "Watch nothing but porn," he insisted. He then realized the error in his statement and said, "I mean anything."

Had everything been normal, Tim would have laughed and been tricking Bruce into thinking he was watching porn.

Not even that raised a muscle on or near Tim's mouth.

* * *

It was almost midnight when Tim and Bruce went to sleep in their separate beds. It was 2AM when Bruce awoke to the soft crying. It awoke him and for a second it scared him. He turned in his bed towards Tim. 

The boy was in his bed, facing away from Bruce, towards the door. His body was moving like he couldn't control it.

"Tim?" whispered Bruce.

The crying continued.

Bruce got out of bed, a wife beater and boxers were his sleeping wardrobe as well, and went close to Tim. He picked up the boy-who broke down in his guardian's arms.

"Shh," comforted Bruce. "Shh. It wasn't your fault, Tim. I'm here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again."

Tim was trembling. Shaking. His voice was too.

"It was m-my f-fault. I d-duh-deserved it."

"No," insisted Bruce gently. "No…you didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Least of all you. You've been through enough in your life. You don't need any more pain."

"I-I-I've b-buh-been a b-burden to you," Tim managed to sob out.

"No," whispered Bruce. "No, you haven't. You saved me."

"I've been a burden to you," repeated Tim. "I know…you hoped I would move back with my dad."

"So did you," said Bruce. "But…that's never going to happen. He's a bad man…who happened to have a good son."

Tim cried some more. "I'm sorry, Bruce."

"For what?"

"I haven't been the best…person. The best kid to look after. Kids are supposed to show respect at all times and…I've been a little shit. A little bastard."

Bruce rubbed Tim's back. "No. Don't ever say that."

"Ah-as s-suh-soon as we get back…I'll luh-look for a place to live," said Tim. "I only expected to live with you until my dad came back and…it'll be better for you. I'm not even your kid."

"Shh," said Bruce. "Tim…I don't want you to move out anytime soon. In a way…I was almost hopping we wouldn't find your dad. I didn't want you to be disappointed like this but yet…I didn't want to leave you."

Tim stopped trembling.

"I've grown attached to you," continued Bruce. "I can't picture another day without your wisecracks in the ring, your wackiness on vacations, your appreciation towards your friends, your kindness at Christmas. I've grown attached to you."

He gave Tim a gentle squeeze.

"And I want to adopt you."

Tim's mouth hung open. He looked up at Bruce, both of them were either staring at the door or the floor (Bruce also had the option of the top of Tim's head).

"D-do you mean that?" asked Tim gently.

"I do," said Bruce with tears in his eyes.

Tim wrapped his arms around Bruce's body and began a new cry. It was a happy cry.

It was salvation.

Redemption.

"As soon as we get back to Jump City…I'll take care of it."

Tim sniffed and looked at Bruce.

_This man…this wonderful, wonderful man... is going to be my dad._

"Can I still call you Bruce?"

Bruce nodded. "I don't think I could stand being called Daddy or Papa."

"How about, Old Man?" suggested Tim with a smile.

"Bruce will do."

Not sure if it was a natural instinct or not, Tim kissed Bruce on the cheek to show his thanks. It was either that or tell Bruce that he loved him. Tim decided to save that for later.

Tim and Bruce fell asleep on the same bed. Bruce's large heavyweight arm over Tim's healed body and soul to make sure no one would harm it again.

_It seems everything worked out_, thought Tim before falling asleep. _I came back looking for my dad…and he was with me the whole time_.

To Be Continued...

Yes, I got what happened to Tim from Return of the Joker-I never liked that it had to happen to him so I figured that since it happened in the movie and things went downhill for him I would make things right for him in this chapter. I may sound crazy right now...I'm used to it.

If you type in Luva Irmao on the google translate page, portuguese to english, you'll see...

Read and Review


	12. Back in the Game

Hello, everybody. It's so good to have you all back. I didn't take so long for me to update this time and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. I've gone back and read all of the chapters and I have to say that 11 is my favourite so far. I don't think anything I ever do will top that in this fic. Anyway, you know that I respond to all logged on reviews but I'll still give a response here.

Hoshi-ko88: I hope this chapter doesn't make you cry. It's not my intention to make my readers cry but it is my intention to get them to feel for the characters. Didn't know I did it so well.

DarkMagic101: Sorry about the confusion but that was to get you and the rest of the readers thinking, "Oh, he killed Garfield! Now he shall pay...WITH HIS BLOOD!" or something like that. I didn't want Gar to die at all and I can assure you he will not. I don't think this chapter will make you cry. If it does then I'll be surprised. I know, poor, poor Tim. I didn't like what happened to him in Return of the Joker and so...I thought to myself, "Well let's insert that in here...but instead of Bruce telling him to stop boxing...he adopts him and Tim gets a happy ending for that part of his life." I'm going to include a part in chapter 13 where they all celebrate his adoption.

G.A. Reader: Dude, by the way you review it's almost like you're programmed to say the same thing. Lol, glad you liked it.

Gregthezombie: Actually, I've decided that they won't get together. Kori and Raven decide to date Vic at the same time and Gar and Tim go into the drug business. But Tim is going to be adopted.  
I was just joking about the other stuff. Lol, wasn't funny.

Acosta Perez Jose Ramiro: Thank you very much. Glad that you liked Tim in this chapter. Doesn't have a weak point? Oh, wow. Thanks for the kudos on the continuity about the comics and cartoons. BB is funny on drugs. Based on my own performance on drugs (while in the hospital).

Xinthos: Glad you appreciate the length. I try not to make them too short but I try not to make them too long. Yes, cheers for BB and Robin. I tried to do some girl stuff with them in this chapter. I should have done more but I didn't. Sorry, I hope I don't get reviews saying, "Girls don't act that way. God you're such a pig!" Lets hope.

ShadeyMike: Sorry to make you cry last time, dude. I'm glad you like this story though I hope it doesn't pain you to read it. If I could, I'd give you a hug if you needed it.

DarkRose: OK! I WON'T GIVE A DAMN! I mean-ahem-you're right...it's not right for me to worry about trivial things like that. I got some Raven and Garfield stuff in this chapter. Remember those dreams he had? Well there's going to be another one...with a twist.

Cycloptic NightBat: God, everyone wants to know about the State Championship! You want to know what happens? FINE! As they're driving on the road to the final round of the State Championship, the car skidds off the road and they all crash! There, that's what happens in your precious State Championship!  
Sorry, I was in a busdriver from Billy Madison mode. The State Championship is coming up soon and you'll like it.

lilyandjamesrox: I appreciate you retyping that review. I really do. Most people would either just type Good job or nothing. The one thing I'm really glad you liked was Luva Irmao. I was going to name the chapter that but I thought it would be cheesy.

Doc-trigger: Hey, better late than never, man. Glad you liked the way Tim told Gar. I was REALLY worried about that because of what he did afterwards. I thought I was going to get flammed up the butt for that but people were cool with it. You're actually the first person to comment on how he told him. No thanks is necessary for letting Gar live. This is his fic. This is the ultimate Beast Boy/Garfield Logan fic in my opinion. At least in the AU genre anyway.

BeastWithin: -holds up ligher-I hope I kept the faith going in this chapter. WE shall always keep the faith!

Darkest Mignight: Well, I don't want to keep you waiting any longer. Enjoy!

Phantom 009: I like long chapters but they can't be too long. I'm glad you like them though. It works for the story.

Darkmagic21: I'm glad that you found chapter 11 was worth your time. I hope this one is worth equal amount of time.

Lord Musul: I'm glad that you think that way about my story. I hope this AU fic gives hope to those who wish to write an AU fic or want to keep reading the AU fic. I also have a couple more deams for the readers of this fic but I'll reveal those later.

Midnight-Raven243: So glad that you love it. Your with comes with a speedy response.

Dragongirl: Thanks very much. This means a lot to me.

BatThing: Sigh...where to begin? lol. I'm glad you drool over those parts. There's going to be more in later chapters as the Championship comes up. Glad you liked the dialogue between Tim and Alfred. Thought I would pay a subtle nod to the comics and cartoon.

Zerowolfgirl: I'm glad that I rank up there with your dog. Is he a big dog cause I like big dogs. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Now before I begin, I encourage you to come visit me on the message board which I have linked in my bio. Check it out. On that site, Raging Beast Boy has the most visits out of any fic and the most posts.

But for now...on with the fic

Chapter Eleven: Back in the Game

One usually thinks that boxing is merely two half naked men with gloves on in a square where they fight for over an hour just for a belt.

To Victor 'Cyborg' Stone, boxing was the sport that had the greatest athletes. In his mind, they had the greatest bodies, the greatest speed and even a dull round of boxing was better than any other sport to be a part of. There were even times where Victor regretted taking up football in high school and not doing boxing.

_I like to hit things_, he thought to himself while he wrapped his hands.

It was the day that Tim and Bruce left early for Gotham. They had told the others-aside from Dick-that they were just going for a quick getaway.

_What does that boy need a getaway for? He gets his own boxing gym to come to whenever he wants. He's got a kick ass gym at home. If I had that I wouldn't need no getaway._

Victor stepped into the ring alone. He would shadowbox as if there was an opponent in there with him. Except this opponent was some pansy-ass white boy who refused to punch back at all and just absorbed the punishment cause he gets off to it-in Victor's mind anyway.

_Jabjablefthookuppercutstraightrightstraightrightuppercutuppercut!_

That's how fast it went in Victor's mind. He didn't have time to think about what the other guy might do. How he saw it was to get the other guy first and then hit him with as much as you could before he could lay a jab on you.

"Looking good, Vic," called Dick from one of the two double end bags.

_Jabjabduckstraightrightlefthooklefthookuppercutthankyoujabjabrighthook!_

The electronic bell gave a ring and Victor stopped for his one minute rest.

"Thank you," he smiled. "So…where Bruce and Tim? I wanna get ready for that State Championship and I need sparring!"

Dick raised his hands. "Relax, big guy. I mean, the thing's at the end of June and it's not even March yet."

"Well I wanna win," said Victor. "I don't want some damn complimentary medal, I want the damn belt!"

Dick smiled. "Well, that's good enough for me." He moved across the floor towards the equipment and pulled on the headgear after pulling off his own shirt.

Victor smiled. "All right! Now you talking!" He hopped out of the ring and helped find the appropriate gloves for his hand. As he rolled into the ring through the bottom rope, he decided that he would make today a pro day for today since Dick had already started it.

At Jump City High, Victor was labelled as the hottest black person in the entire school. Even guys who weren't gay couldn't deny the fact that he was very handsome and well built.

Applying the headgear and gloves to his body, Victor and Dick began their spar.

While Dick and Victor were only two weight classes apart, they both found each other to be a challenge to each other.

* * *

Kori had been skipping rope for two rounds when Raven began to join her. While Kori was the better skipper, she never showed off in front of Raven unless her friend asked her to.

"It is quiet today," she observed.

"Yes," agreed Raven. "If the other boys were here it would be…different."

The telephone rang and Alfred moved his feet off the desk and onto the floor. He picked up the phone and gave the usual greeting.

"Wonderful news!" declared Alfred. He paused. "Yes…yes…in two days? All right, then. I will tell them. Thank you."

Alfred hung up the phone. "Ladies and gentlemen…Garfield Logan has been cured of his skin cancer."

_Oh, thank you, God_, thought Raven.

"He's going to be released two days from now," continued Alfred. "And his mother…would like to plan a…surprise party."

Dick smiled.

_This is going to be fun.

* * *

_

Even though he had been working out ever since getting to the gym at 8AM, Victor Stone quietly shadowboxed in the locker room with his boxers in place of his blue and silver trunks. While today had been a good workout, he felt bored at the same time. He had no one to play with other than Dick. But Victor always felt awkward when he wasn't around people his own age.

That had been a problem most of his life. He was so good at whatever sport he set his mind too that he would often end up playing with older kids instead of younger ones. It made him feel different. It was difficult when he would interact with kids his own age. They would talk about things the older kids didn't talk about and Victor would feel out of the loop.

_Not out of the damn loop anymore_, he thought as he swung his arms. He finished and quickly did ten push-ups. With that done, he wiped the sweat off his bald head.

_I am the greatest_, he thought as he pulled down his boxers and strutted nude into the shower. Whenever he was alone in the locker room, Victor felt bold enough to walk in and out of the showers without a towel. Sure he did it when Tim and Gar were around but that was because Victor believed he looked the best naked and didn't want to make them feel ashamed or embarrassed.

Under the rain of the shower, Victor looked at his fists and rubbed them gently. Those and his physique were what made him who he was. And at times they were both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because these had caused him to win all but three of his matches and it showed people that they couldn't walk over him.

And a curse because people always thought they had him pegged. They looked at him and saw a muscle bound moron. A black hulk of a teen who could run a touchdown no problem but couldn't do his two times tables.

Victor turned the water setting to as hot as it could go. He wanted to relax those muscles as much as he could so that he wouldn't experience any pain the next day. Victor wanted to push himself as much as he could without puking or killing himself.

When he was done, Victor calmly walked out of the shower and to his locker. He pulled out his blue towel and began drying his front self.

"Hey Victor," called Raven as she began walking in, "I think we should-"

She stopped when she saw the black teen's naked backside and gasped.

Victor turned around and was thankful that the towel was covering the parts he didn't want Raven to see. However he knew she had seen his ass.

"JESUS, RAVEN! How about a courtesy knock or something!"  
"I-I…I saw your butt," she admitted.

"Oh thanks!" said Victor sarcasically. "I was meaning to check it myself. You know, to see if I should shave it or not, plus you never know when a zit will show up!. Can you…" he began to twirl his index finger, indicating she should turn around. "Since you're already here you might as well stay…just don't look."

"O-OK…" replied Raven and she quickly turned around, doing her best to forget what she had seen.

"So what's so important that you have to come in while I'm drying my balls?" asked Victor.

"We…we just wanted to let you know…Gar's party…it's a…puh-potluck thing."

"I got to bring something?"

"Yeah."

Victor pulled his boxers back on. "I'm decent now."

Raven turned around and saw that her friend was wearing one more piece of clothing than he was earlier.

"Relax," said Victor. "You've seen me without a shirt on before."

"True…but I've never seen your butt before."

Victor smiled. "Did you like it?"

Raven smiled. "I'm afraid I got my eye on someone else's butt."

"Duh! Garfield's."

Raven went pale. "W-what?"

Victor sat down on the bench in the locker room, still half naked. "Admit it, Rae. You like him. I see it in your eyes. Hell, you _did_ want to see him naked when he offered it. Chances are you would have said yes if we weren't there."

Raven sighed. "How many other people know?"  
Victor shrugged. "I don't know. Probably only me. I doubt Gar knows. I'm actually a little jealous of the little guy."

"What?"

Victor shrugged with a blank face. "What, Rae? You're hot. OK? Like, don't act so surprised."

"You…had a crush on me?"

"Sort of."

Raven moved close to him and sat across from him on the bench.

"You…could have always told me."

"Yeah…well. I was shy. Plus…I knew BB liked you more."

"So…you let him go after me?"  
Victor nodded. "Yeah. I mean…I don't got much luck with the ladies but-"

Raven leaned forward and kissed Victor on the mouth. She placed one hand on one of his pecs to balance herself and instantly she regretted it. It was so warm and the touch made her want to do more with him. She had always found Victor attractive but with Garfield…it was comparing apples to oranges.

She moved away from Victor.

"I won't tell anyone," he whispered.

She smiled. "Thanks." She kissed him on the cheek and moved towards the door. "Vic…you'll find the right girl. I promise you."

"Yeah," muttered Victor as he sprayed his armpits with deodorant. When he knew she was gone, Victor licked his lips.

"BB better take good care of her," Victor told himself.

* * *

Tim Drake and Bruce Wayne returned the next afternoon. Tim was all smiles but Bruce was a bit worried about him. During their night in the hotel, Tim would moan in his sleep. He would toss and turn as well. On the way home Tim agreed to see Dr. Teal one more time.

As soon as Tim came through the door, Dick went up to him and hugged him. "Hey, are you all right?" he asked him.

With the smile still on his face, Tim nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. Bruce told you?"

Dick nodded. "God…when I heard that you were…it's just…had they done what they did before…I would have bought a rifle, ammo, drive into Gotham and go after any Joker in sight." He hugged him again. "I'm just so glad you're not hurt."

"I know," said Tim. "But…did Bruce tell what else is happening?"

Dick frowned. "No. Bruce, what's going on?"

Bruce put his arm around Dick. "Since Tim isn't going to go back with his father…I've decided to take his place."

Dick gasped. "What?"

"I'm adopting him."

Dick gave the biggest smile his face would allow.

"I'm gonna be your little brother," said Tim.

Dick hugged him again and began laughing. "Oh…oh my God. When is this going to happen?"

"As soon as I can get the paperwork taken care of," said Bruce. "I'm not sure if I should announce it or not but…let's wait."

* * *

The next day, Tim was back in Dr. Teal's office.

"Bruce told me about what happened," explained Dr. Teal. "We can discuss that if you want."

"Let's," said Tim.

"Were you surprised when you found your father?"

"Yes and no."

"Explain, please?"

"I _knew_ that he would be like that and yet…a part of me was hoping that he would be better. But…you know part of me expected him to give me a good beating like old times."

"What happened after you left?"

"I ran. I just ran out…I-he told me that I was a mistake."

"Do you believe that."

"Well the way he put it, you can't say I was an unexpected surprise."

"Tim, honestly in your heart do you believe that everything you've done on this earth has been a mistake?"

"No. When we were coming home…I thought of all the good I had done in my life and I knew…_I knew_ that I wasn't a mistake."

"Do you want to talk about what happened with…your abduction?"

Tim was quiet.

"Tim?"

"I stopped…in an alley to catch my breath and…they smashed something over my head. I-I don't remember a lot of it. Wherever they took me…they beat me. I remember waking up and being strapped to that table…I was struggling so much-grunting and pulling but…it held me. They gave me electrical shocks…big ones...and God…I-I didn't know what was going to happen to me."

"Did you think you were dying?"

"No. I _wished_ I was dying. They did that for God knows how long and they would stop and start it up again. And…they were laughing the whole time."

"What happened after that?"

"They…undid the straps over my arms but they had someone hold them. They took off my shirt and…they painted my chest. And then one was undoing my fly. I started to scream at them. They got mad. They threw me off the table and stripped me naked. Like, they didn't rip anything…they just pulled it all off. Shoes, socks, jeans and my boxers. Then they beat me again but not as bad. Sort of, like, to keep me still. Then they had one hold my wrists up and another hold my ankles."

Teal rubbed his hand through his hair. "Did they…what did they do after that?"

"They kept painting me and there was this girl Joker…she…you're not going to tell anyone right?"

"You know I can't."

"Like, I told this to the police but…not Bruce."

"What happened?"

"She…stroked me…got me hard…she kept stroking."

"Do you know why?"

Tim lips began to tremble. "She said she figured I should get some action before they killed me."

"Please forgive me for asking this but did you reach a climax?"

"No. They pushed her away and…painted my junk."

"Did you believe you were going to die?"

"Yes. When she said that…I almost peed myself. I mean…when I lived alone I was so close to death at all times but…I never thought that I would come _that close_. I mean…so many things were going through my mind."

"Like what?"

"Things I had done. Things I never got to do. Things I never said."

"What do you mean?"

"Like…I thought I would never get to say goodbye to my friends."

Dr. Teal coughed. "Tim…I want you to tell me what you would say to each one of your friends if you knew you were going to die then. Suppose time was suspended and you were given enough time to say what you wanted. What would you say?"

Tim coughed as well. "Like, I really don't know. Bruce…I would tell him that I was sorry for any troubles I ever gave him but…he gave my life a purpose and I always looked to him as a dad. Dick, I would tell him that I never wanted a brother at all in my life…but he was able to make me change my mind with his caring for me. Kori…I'd tell her that she was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life and that she was as strong as she was beautiful.

"Raven, I would say to her that she will one day find the peace she needs and oddly enough, it's her inner peace that makes her the great fighter she is.

"Victor, I would tell him that he is the toughest, and I mean _the toughest_ person I know. I would tell him to continue boxing because it's what's going to make him the biggest thing since Cassius Clay. And I think you know who I'm talking about.

"Gar…I would just tell him that the pleasure was all mine."

"What happened after they painted you?"

"They beat me again. Truth is, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would."

"Then what happened?"

"One of the Jokers put my boxers back on and said, 'Nice undies.' They redressed me and dropped me off in an alley. Of all the alleys..."

"Afterwards...were you suicidal?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah...when we were in the pool...I was hoping to be alone. I just wanted to drown...but either I would chicken out or Bruce would pull me up the times I didn't."

"Does he know about your attempts?"

"I don't know."

"Are you still suicidal, Tim?"

"I...I don't know."

"How do you feel about Bruce adopting you?"

Tim sighed. "It's weird…but I feel like a whole new person. I feel like I've been let out of a prison. No longer am I just some kid staying at his house. I'm his son. I can say that out loud and I can say that until I die."

* * *

Garfield Logan hadn't showered in a long time. Thankfully there was one in the bathroom in his hospital room. For forty-five minutes, Garfield washed himself with the water as hot as he could take it. After he was finished he opened the door to find a nice greenish grey shirt folded on top of a folded pair of khakis on the floor.

Seeing no other clothing available, Garfield put them on and some socks when he found them under his bed with his shoes.

"Mom, why am I dressed like this?" he asked. "It's…I feel weird."

Sally smiled and patted her son on his head. "I want you to look your best. Now when we get home I want you to take it easy. I don't want to see you doing anything strenuous or exercising."

Garfield sighed. "Fine. Did you give Natasha the thank you card?" Garfield felt that those spongebaths were worthy of more than just a card.

"I gave it to the head nurse and she said she would give it to her. You wait here, I'll go warm up the car, OK?"

Garfield sighed once more. "OK."

As soon as he heard his mother's footsteps fade away did Garfield began punching the air. He turned his back to the door and continued shadowboxing.

While he was doing it, he could hear breathing. Faint but it was there. In the doorway probably.

He turned around and saw a doctor standing there. He looked like he was a first year attending.

"Hey," said Garfield.

"Do…do you box?" asked the doctor. He looked young, mid to late twenties. He had mop top kind of hair, messy yet tame.

Garfield nodded. "For a couple of months."

"That's so cool," said the doctor. "I mean, I don't even know how to throw a punch and you can probably knock someone out."

"I have," stated Garfield. A thought then entered his head. "Hey…come here."

The doctor looked both ways before coming in.

"Are you left handed or right handed?" asked Garfield.

"Left handed."

"OK, good. Now, I want you to put your right foot out and keep your left still. Bring your left fist up close to your chin and keep your right in front of you."

Garfield got into the same pose.

"Is this right?" asked the doctor.

"That's good. Now I want you to extend your right arm as far as you can. _Out_." Garfield extended his arm with the doctor. Garfield's arm cracked as it extended.

"OK, now bring it back. _Recoil. Out, recoil. Out, recoil. Out, recoil._ Good." Garfield smiled. "OK, now upon the word ou_t_," Garfield put the emphasis on the 't', "between the two syllables-your hand must strike your opponent and come back the same way. Now watch me. Goes like this," Garfield extended his arm, "straight out and comes back upright. Now here's where you snap it. Say _out _for me."

"Out," said the doctor fiercely, the testosterone in his body building.

And before the doctor could finish the word, Garfield's fist had shot back and come back to it's original position.

"Again," said Garfield calmly.

"Out."

Garfield repeated the demonstration.

"Now, I'm going to do it for you. Ready? Out. Out."

The doctor moved with the same speed that any beginner would have but Garfield had to admit to himself that he did pretty good.

"That's it," said Garfield. "You just learned a jab."

* * *

"What's going on?" Garfield asked as the elevator doors opened to their floor.

"What do you mean?" asked Sally.

"You won't stop smiling," explained Garfield. "You look like you're high or something."

"Oh, nonsense," said Sally. She opened the door and made way for Garfield to enter. The lights were off in the apartment and the blinds were down.

Garfield flipped on the lights and was instantly greeted with a loud shout from everyone, "SURPRISE!"

Garfield screamed and jumped two feet in the air. After realizing who it was…he calmed down and turned around to his laughing mother.

"Only you…" he told her.

* * *

A large cake was devoured by all those present and there were so many talks of what it was like in the hospital, exchanging of funny stories when they were in hospitals.

All the while Victor had noticed that Tim had the biggest damn grin on his face even when they were talking about stuff that Tim would be bored off as he sat next to Bruce.

_He's high_, summarized Victor.

When Garfield went up to use the bathroom, Victor followed him and stopped him before he got in.

"Do you need to go?" asked Garfield.

"No," whispered Victor. "But I need to know: Are you doing the State Championship?"

Garfield sighed. "I-I don't know. I-I might not be in the best shape and…I don't want to lose."

"Listen to me," said Victor softly. "If you come back…you'll win. Just start training again and…you'll be back to the same old Beast Boy."

"Vic, I can't come back tomorrow. I got to take two days off and-"

"Two days? You spent…" Victor growled and turned away.

"Why do you care so bad?" asked Garfield. "Wouldn't you be more interested in winning yourself?"

"Yeah…it's just…I don't want you to be left out."

"Trust me…I'll do my best. My mom doesn't want me exercising but…she's not going to be home all day tomorrow."

Garfield entered the bathroom, did his business and found Victor waiting for him outside.

"What do you want from me?" he asked him.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to try my mom's brownies. Case you haven't noticed, this is a potluck."

As the two of them got back to the living room, they found Bruce standing up in front of everyone.

"Garfield," he said, "I know that this is a party to celebrate your recovery but…I'm afraid I have to steal the spotlight from you for just a moment."

"It's all yours," smiled Garfield.

_What the hell is going on?_ he thought.

"Well," began Bruce, "for the past four years, I've been taking care of Tim Drake. I've watched him under a careful eye and…I've recently made the decision to make him a permanent member of my family."

The apartment was quiet.

Tim stood up next to Bruce.

"He's going to adopt me," he explained.

The apartment burst into cheers and applause.

Kori got teary-eyed and hugged Tim.

"This is most glorious news," she told him.

The excitement about the upcoming adoption combined with Garfield being better made everyone feel good and not a frown was seen in the apartment. Even after all of Victor's brownies had been finished.

* * *

The house was quiet.

Sally Logan had gone to work after making sure her son was fast asleep in his bed. He had had quite a party yesterday and was probably very tired.

Five minutes after she closed the door, Garfield Logan slid across the kitchen floor in nothing but his socks and pair of grey briefs.

"Who wears short shorts?" he asked the empty apartment. "Oh, that's right. _I _wear short shorts!"

* * *

"What do you suppose Garfield is doing, right now?" Kori asked Raven as they ate lunch in the hallway.

"I don't know," she answered. "I was thinking of visiting him at lunch."

"That dude needs to get his little white butt in the gym," said Victor. "He says he's lost most of his energy. We need to fix that."

"It's not really his fault," defended Tim. "I mean, the guy just had major surgery that was really life threatening to him. I mean…I can understand why he didn't have a lot of energy; he worried it all out of him."

"We _do _need to fix that," said Raven. "What are we doing in Writer's Craft today?"

* * *

Music was playing loudly-not too loudly so that the other tenants would complain-throughout the apartment as Garfield Logan continued to dance around in his skivvies. He couldn't remember the name of the song he was listening to, but he did know it was from the movie _Caddyshack_.

"Anyway you want/that's the way you need it/anyway you want it!" sang Garfield. He moved towards the stereo and shut it off, wiping the sweat from his brow.

_God, what could make this day even better?_

"Having fun?" asked a voice at the door.

Garfield screamed and turned towards the door. There stood Raven with a brown leather sack in her hand. Garfield screamed when he saw her. He then looked down and remembered he was in his grey briefs. He screamed again and hid behind a couch.

"Relax," said Raven. "It's not like I haven't seen a little boy in his underwear before."

Garfield stood up. "'Little boy'? I am no little boy. Heck, I'm a man."

"Yes," nodded Raven. "And we all know men dance around in their underwear when alone."

"What're you doing here? For that matter, how'd you get up here?"

"Simple. I got up here by pretending to have left my key inside and someone believed that as they were heading out. Second, your door was open. Why I'm here…I'm here to help you."

"Help me?"

"My mother…wrote to me a few months ago. She told me about a ritual the tribe of Azarath do when one is…sick or near death or recovering, such as yourself."

"Uh-huh," replied Garfield. He continued to stand in front of her, one piece of clothing away from being totally nude.

"Anyway…my mom says that this ritual…works. The people who were put under the ritual were…better."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"And you want to do this ritual on me…to help me get my energy back?"  
"Pretty much, yeah."

"Like…do I have to…shed any blood or stuff? Will it hurt?"

"No. There is no pain. We're going to do this by the book. I got my mom's letter in the sack on how it goes. Let's go to your bedroom."

"OK," said Garfield. He lead the way.

All the while Raven couldn't keep her eyes from drifting down towards Garfield's rear end.

Once in his room, Garfield moved towards a drawer as Raven pulled out the sheet of paper.

"Let me put some pants on if we're going to do this voodoo stuff," explained Garfield.

"No," said Raven. "Not according to this."

"What?"  
"According to this…the ritual is done with the one receiving it…naked."

_B-I-N-G-OOOOOO!_ thought Garfield.

"You're keeping your underwear on," said Raven. "And if I see anything around that area move-"

"Why would you be watching that area?" asked Garfield with a smile as he lay down on his bed.

_Crap!_ thought Raven.

"Let's begin," said Raven. "Now, I'm going to place some stones on your body. And you're to _remain quiet_."

Garfield said nothing in response.

Raven placed one round stone on the center Garfield's stomach.

It felt cold on his bare skin. Soon more joined the first one, but they made a circle around the first one.

"Now I need you to be _very_ still," said Raven. She placed a flat green stone on his forehead. "The stones I place on your head are to…bring all the energy in your head together and then…force it into the rest of your body." She placed two more green stones on his forehead. "Now concentrate. Picture all the energy in your head and send it throughout your body."

"Uh…OK."

Garfield closed his eyes and concentrated.

_Ok…energy…uh…get going…now! Come on. Go! Now…this is stupid._

Raven began lifting the stones off of Garfield.

"There are more steps to the ritual," explained Raven. "One of them would be allowing me to stick small wooden sticks through your cheeks and into your mouth. I doubt you want that."

"Not really," replied Garfield. He sat up in his bed. Thought of him and Raven having sex were filtering through his mind so rapidly. It was hard not to think about them. If being in only his underwear with his crush in the same room didn't do it, he wouldn't know what would. He also found it a miracle that he hadn't gotten an erection yet.

"I'm not sure if it would work," said Raven. "I just…thought-"

"You like me," said Garfield.

Raven's eyes went wide.

"What?"

"Raven, it is pretty clear by this point. I mean, you ditched school just to come over here and try some mystical crystal healing on me while I'm in my underwear. My _underwear_, Raven. And you let me stay that way. Even after I said I would put on some pants. Now I don't know but-"

"If you think I came here looking for sex you're dead wrong."

"I wasn't thinking that. I'm just saying I think you care for me a lot more than you say you do."

Raven went towards the door and Garfield followed her.

"You're my friend," she explained as she slipped on her shoes. "I of course care for you just as much as I care for Tim or Kori or Victor."

"Fine," sighed Garfield. "Are you going to the gym today?"

"I always do," said Raven. "Are you?"

Garfield shrugged. "Unless your stone thingy works…I got doctor's orders."

"Do what's right for you."

She opened the door.

"I would give you a hug," she told him, "but I don't think you want to go camping in front of me."

_Camping? _thought Garfield. _What does she mean by-_

"Oh, ha, ha, very clever," said Garfield sarcastically.

* * *

"How was he?" asked Victor as he shadowboxed in front of the mirrors.

"He was fine," answered Raven as she did footwork.

"But what was he doing?" asked Victor.

"You don't want to know?"

"Was he watching porn and you caught him with his pants around his ankles?"

"You're a pig," said Raven.

"Well what was he doing?" asked Tim.

"He was dancing around in his underwear," said Raven.

Victor stopped shadowboxing.

Tim skipped rope.

_That's not so different from my own hobbies_, he thought.

"He was dancing in his underwear," said Victor. "Like, boxers or are we talking briefs?"

"Briefs."

Victor growled and stomped towards the phone.

"What are you going to do?" asked Kori.

"I'm making a phone call," declared Victor to the entire gym as he picked up the telephone. The other teens gathered round.

"I'm going to give that white boy a good yelling," warned Victor.

"As opposed to a bad yelling?" asked Raven.

"If he's got energy to dance he can dance around in the ring and spar me! Come on, pick up, pick up."

"What's going on?" asked Bruce as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Hang on," said Victor. He listened to the automatic message from the answering machine and then got the beep.

"Yo, if this ain't Garfield you got five seconds to get him on the phone." Victor waited five seconds before screaming, "BB, what the hell's the matter with you? You're dancing instead of fighting. So listen, you better get your skinny white ass in here because it sucks that I'm hoping you can get your ass back in gear but instead you're sitting at home in your undies!"

The front door opened and in walked Garfield Logan, with his backpack over his shoulder.

Victor's eyes went wide.

"I'll call you back," he said into the receiver and hung up, knowing that he had just become the biggest ass he knew.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting," said Bruce with a raised eyebrow.

Garfield let his backpack slide off his shoulder.

"My name is Garfield Logan," he declared loudly to the gym. "I am the Beast Boy and I am undefeated and I intend to be the next State Featherweight Champion! Now who wants to help?"

Within the hour, Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan was pounding away at the heavy bag as Alfred held it for him.

_Seems those stones did work_, thought Raven as she watched his reflection in the mirror.

Garfield finished off the workout by sparring Victor. While he normally would have sparred Tim because they were closer weight classes, Bruce wanted to literally get the strength beaten back into Garfield.

* * *

Garfield pressed his head against the shower wall as the water ran down his body. He was breathing deeply. He had never been on the receiving end of Victor's punches. Sure they had playfully punched each other as men do but never in a spar.

"You OK, Garfield?" asked Victor.

"I'm fine," said Garfield. He looked into the showerhead and let the water fall onto his face and down on the floor. "It's weird. I really missed these showers."

"Why?" asked Tim as he shut off his water and exited the shower. "The pressure can be pretty crappy sometimes; sometimes when the girls use the hot water we get blasted with cold water and usually once a week one of us usually slips on the floor coming out."

"I know," smiled Garfield as he shut off his own shower. As he exited he slipped on the floor and fell on his ass.

Tim and Victor burst out laughing.

_I'm home_, thought Garfield.

* * *

"How was the gym today, Victor?" asked Mr. Stone as he sliced his pork chop.

"Great," said Victor as he poured himself some applesauce. "Garfield came back at long last."

"He did?" asked Mrs. Stone. "I thought he just had surgery."

"Yep. And now he's back. He was told to rest for a few days at home but he was like, 'Screw that stuff' and he came back. I sparred with him today and he did pretty good."

"He's back already?" asked Mr. Stone. "Boy, I thought he would take some time to rest."

"No way, Pops. He's got his eye on the State Championship. Today he was working like a dog and he said that his mom's not going to let him go to school tomorrow so he's gonna be at the gym all day."

"Really?" asked Mr. Stone with great interest.

* * *

"I'm telling you this is a great story," Mr. Stone insisted to his editor, Jack Duncan.

"It's a story for the Sports page," Duncan insisted. "And it sounds like a two line story. Trust me, people don't want to read about something like that."

"They will if I write it," Mr. Stone insisted. "Look, people are tired of having Hollywood celebrities on the front cover. The winner of _American Idol_ was over in the next state and that made the front page. She didn't even come close to this town and we consider that the biggest news of the day? I thought you were a reporter. You're starting to sound like a junket whore."

"What is it you want with this, Stone?"

"I want a story that's going to get people to their feet and cheer for these kids. I want to get these kids the attention they deserve. People don't want to have hockey shoved down their throats-give them some alternative. This is going to show that you don't have to be the biggest or the best to be included. They allow anybody. Just let me cover a story and trust me-"

"Look, I don't want to listen to you beg. You want to run the story? Run the god damn story but it's going to be all you. No photographers-just you. You take whatever pictures you want but I'm not wasting any more people on the feel good story of the year. Listen to me, if this story blows, I'll have you working on the classified section for the rest of the year."

Duncan hung up.

"Dickhead," muttered Mr. Stone.

* * *

Garfield Logan was already asleep in his bed when he heard a sound come from his door.

"Hello?" he called.

The lights shot on and temporarily blinded him. He felt the covers get pulled off the bed leaving him cold since he was once again wearing only the grey briefs.

Once it seemed his eyes cleared, Garfield looked at who was there to greet him.

It was Raven.

"I have something that will help get your energy back," she explained.

She wore dark lingerie and was quickly free of it. She hopped onto Garfield and they began making out.

This time, Garfield let his erection be noticed by Raven. While kissing him she rubbed her hand over his crotch.

He moaned slightly.

She put a finger on his lip and kissed his cheek. She got up on the bed and pulled off his briefs. As soon as she mounted him she said, "Just relax, Garfield and leave everything to me."

She began to move up and down while he felt her breasts with his hands.

"Stop," he moaned.

She did. And before she could ask what was happening, Garfield flipped her over so that now he was on top of her.

"Just relax," he told her. He began to move slowly and increased with time.

Raven moved her hands all across his back and let them rest on his buttocks. She would squeeze the cheeks and pinch them while Garfield continued to make love to her.

* * *

Heavy breathing filled the air of the bedroom as the dreamer continued with their fantasy. Soon it would end before things got better as all good dreams do.

Raven Roth's eyes shot open and she sat up, thinking-and almost hoping-that she would find Garfield Logan beside her, naked as a jaybird and looking as beautiful as ever.

But he wasn't.

"Just a dream," she told herself.

* * *

Tim, Victor, Raven and Kori entered the boxing gym the next day to find Garfield Logan already pounding away at a heavy bag.

"Hey, Gar," called Tim. "How long you been here?"

"Since ten this morning."

"What!"

"He's a wrecking machine," observed Bruce from the desk. "Garfield," he called, "let's work the medicine balls."

"Right," panted Garfield. He hopped into the ring and Bruce followed him with a large ten pound medicine ball. Garfield placed his arms up to protect his head and leave his stomach clearly exposed.

As the boys emerged from the locker room, they saw what was going to happen.

"He's not going to…" began Victor.

"Bruce, wait!" cried Tim.

Bruce threw the medicine ball against Garfield's stomach. The medicine ball zoomed through the air like a rubber dodge ball and collided with Garfield's stomach.

A sharp moan escaped Garfield's mouth and he dropped to one knee. He panted for a while and then got back up.

"Stop?" asked Bruce.

"No," panted Garfield. "Again!"

Bruce hurled the medicine ball at Garfield's stomach and it crashed into the flesh covered by the sweat soaked T-shirt.

This time, Garfield managed to stay on his feet though he looked like he was in serious pain.

"Why are you throwing them so hard?" asked Tim.

"No one he'll fight is going to hit him that hard," explained Bruce. "I'm toughening him up."

"It's more like torture," observed Victor. "I mean…how can you do that?"

"I want it," barked Garfield. "Come on, Bruce. You throw like a girl. You sure that's not underhand?"

The medicine ball collided with Garfield's stomach again.

* * *

Half an hour later, Garfield was skipping rope when a black man he recognized entered the door. Garfield could see him from the mirrored walls.

"Hey, Mr. Stone," called Garfield.

Victor turned from the heavy bag to find that his father was at the front desk shaking hands with Bruce and Alfred.

Thinking that something was the matter, Victor approached the desk.

"Yo, Pops, what's going on? Everything OK?"

Mr. Stone smiled. "Everything's fine. I'm just here on business." He patted a large leather bag which inside contained a high powered camera and a voice recorder along with a notepad and a pen.

"Well, feel free to pull any of us aside," assured Bruce. "We'll give you whatever cooperation you need."

Mr. Stone nodded. "Thanks, Bruce. I think I'll start with Garfield."

* * *

Over the next hour and a half, Mr. Stone would pull the boxers aside and take pictures of them and ask them questions about their boxing history and about the upcoming State Championship.

"What can you tell me about Garfield Logan deciding to enter the State Championship after going through chemotherapy and life saving surgery?" he asked all of them but Garfield-he asked them not to tell him about this question.

"I think it's really brave," said Tim. "I know that he's probably training harder than any other boxer going into this event and that even if he loses, people will know that he's the toughest."

"At first I thought it was moronic," said Raven. "But it's what he wants and now that I see the dedication he's put into it…I think he may do it."

"He is truly courageous," stated Kori. "He has the strength of a lion and the speed of a zorlot." She then heard what she said and asked him to keep the part about the lion.

"I mean, I expected him to keep training," said Dick, "but I've seen him work and…it's like he's getting ready to fight Ali or Frazier or somebody. He's crazy. But in a good way."

"I've been boxing ever since I was eight years old," remarked Alfred, "and in the 60 years that I've been involved in boxing I have never seen as much determination as I saw from young Garfield Logan when he came in this morning. He truly earns the name 'Beast Boy'."

"I've entered the State Championship five times as a competitive boxer," Bruce told Mr. Stone, "and every year I did, I came out the champion because I never feared my opponent. If I were the opponent of Garfield Logan, I might be a bit afraid. Of course, this would be if I was 17 and his weight."

The last picture he took just before leaving consisted of the entire gym-Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim, Kori, Garfield, Raven and Victor all in regular poses and then in the fighting pose.

"This should be in the papers the by Saturday," he told them just before he left.

* * *

Garfield Logan had been to hell.

And he liked it.

No.

He loved it.

As he stood under the shower's blast of hot water, he felt his biceps and they already felt bigger.

"You feeling yourself up?" asked Victor from his side.

Garfield laughed. "No…just…I mean…I'm tough. I never thought I would ever say that but…I'm tough."

"Shit, yeah, you're tough," agreed Tim. "So…you start school again tomorrow. That's going to be fun, fun, fun."

"I did all that homework the school sent home," said Garfield. "What're we doing in gym though?"

"We're down in the weight room," explained Victor.

"Really?" asked Garfield with peaked interest.

* * *

Raven Roth was only in her bra and panties when she decided to engage in conversation with her best-though she would never tell her this-friend, Kori.

"Kori…mind if I ask you something?"

Unsnapping her bra and catching it before it hit the ground, Kori turned towards her best friend-she often let Raven know she was this role.

"What is it you wish to know?" she asked as she pulled down her panties.

"Do you…ever have…weird dreams?" asked Raven.

"What do you mean?"

Raven sighed as she pulled off the rest of her clothing. She always felt comfortable showering with Kori because she knew that Kori wasn't a cruel girl. Girls like that were just terrible.

She was also thankful she wasn't a guy. Sure, Garfield, Tim and Victor were all great guys but for all she knew they ridiculed each other about all the differences in their naked bodies. Anything from hair on the ass to the possible zits on their back. They probably even compared the length of their-

_Just ask the question!_ her mind screamed.

"Do you have sex dreams?" asked Raven openly as she wrapped the towel around herself.

Kori was quiet as she entered the showers and turned on the water.

"Yes," she replied.

"With anyone…in particular?"

"Do you?"

"Promise not to tell anyone?" asked Raven as she stepped into the shower.

"I promise."

"It was Garfield."

Kori was quiet while she rinsed her hair. "What did he look like…naked?"

Raven put her hands on the shower wall. "Incredible," she declared. "Well, the parts that I saw."

"I take it this was a pleasant dream?"

"Kori, this was the sex dream to end all sex dreams." Yet despite her enthusiasm for it, Raven didn't seem that happy about it.

"You seem…concerned about this," observed Kori.

"It's just…I mean, I'm saving myself until I'm married to the right guy. And…like, when I had similar dreams, they were always with celebrities. I never had one about Gavin. But now I'm having them about Garfield. Is my brain saying that I should forget what my heart wants and…have sex with him?"

"Perhaps that is not what it is saying," guessed Kori. "Maybe it is a prediction of the future. Besides, do you want to go out and have sexual relations with him immediately?"

"I-I don't…no. No, I'm going to save it for marriage."

"Do you believe he has them? Garfield I mean?"

"Kori, all three of those guys on the other side have them."

"About us?"

"About any female." She paused before asking, "Who do you have dreams about?"

"Um…do _you_ promise not to tell anyone?"

"Yes."

"I have dreams that I am having…intercourse…with Dick."

"DICK?" cried Raven.

"And Tim," added Kori.

"You have threesome dreams?"

"It is…difficult," explained Kori. "When…they are finished with me, they begin fighting over who should have me. Dick is always saying that we are married in the comic books and yet Tim is shouting that on TV everyone knows we are a perfect match."

"Your dreams are really crazy, it sounds like," concluded Raven. "So…you're torn between Dick and Tim?"

Kori sighed. "They are both so…pretty."

"Hot," said Raven. "Guys don't like being called pretty. They like being called hot or sexy."

"Very well, I find them very sexy hot. I have seen Dick and Tim shirtless on pro days and there are times I cannot help but stare at their abs. I find that they are so…nice."

"They are," agreed Raven.

"And their breasts look so strong."

"Pecs! Guys don't have breasts. Look, the only time you hear a guy talk about his breast is if it's a Shakespeare play."

"Be that as it may…sometimes…I wonder what they look like naked."

Raven sighed. "You're not the first one. But which one do you like more?"

"Tim," answered Kori. "Please do not tell him, but I am hoping he will ask me to the prom."

"I won't."

"Do you think the boys discuss sexual intercourse amongst themselves as we do?"

"I don't want to know what those guys do in there," Raven answered.

* * *

Garfield had just pulled his boxers on when a towel snapped against his ass, causing him to cry out. He turned around and saw Victor with a large grin on his face.

Garfield grabbed his own discarded towel and twirled it, getting ready to snap it.

Victor was also in also his boxers and covering his going because every male alive knew that a towel snap there could be very painful.

"Children," scolded Tim as he took his boxers off the hook in his locker, "can we save this for later. We've all had a difficult-"

Victor's towel snapped Tim right in the area he had been protecting earlier.

Tim's eyes went white and he let a squeak of pain out of his mouth.

He put his boxers on under his towel and ripped it off.

"You guys are dead," he cried.

* * *

"Did you hear something?" asked Raven as she put her bra back on.

"No," replied Kori as she zipped up her jeans.

"I could have sworn I heard Tim just shout something about something being dead."

There was the sound of someone or something crashing into a locker. A second later all three boys could be heard laughing.

"Boys can generally be morons, yes?" asked Kori.

"All the time," replied Raven.

* * *

Garfield trotted up the stairs and punched the air as often as he could. He opened the door to find his mother at the table. The table was covered in papers. The face she had was one of distress.

"What's going on?" he asked her.

Sally looked up at him. "It's…it's the medical bills. From your chemotherapy and your time in the hospital, _plus _the surgery itself…it's a lot. More than…" She sniffed. "More than I expected."

Garfield sat down beside her. "So, what do we do?"  
Sally Logan looked at her son and delivered the worst news that she ever wanted to give him.

"Garfield, to pay for the bills, we may have to move."

"WHAT?" exclaimed Garfield.

"We'd have to sell a lot of stuff and then…start over somewhere else. I can…I can look for openings in other law firms or for the city we move to but…we can't live here if we expect to pay the bills."

"Is this for sure?"

Sally sighed. "Most likely."

* * *

Garfield didn't sleep that night. He sat in his bed and thought about how soon it would all be gone. He would move again. Where to? There were so many places he could go but there was only one place he wanted to be and that was here.

In God knows how long, he would most likely be leaving.

_Goodbye Titans Boxing Gym. Good bye, friends…I haven't been able to say that in a while._

After he was done thinking this, Garfield gave a silent prayer for deliverance.

* * *

Garfield returned to school and made no mention of his family's money problems. And while he wanted to tell them so that he could get it off his chest, he didn't want his friends to feel sorry for him. They had already done that with the skin cancer scare.

He completed all his assignments on time and excelled as a student. He was even doing good stuff in gym in the weight room doing bench pressing, sit ups and pull-ups on top of his already extreme workouts at the club.

He continued this for Wednesday and Thursday until one day when it was raining and Victor gave him a ride home.

"Are you OK, Gar?"

"I'm fine," Garfield said quietly.

Victor stopped at the red light.

"OK," he said. "I know school sucks and all but you'll get used to it. I mean, you were so energetic at the beginning of the week. What's the matter? You can tell ol' Vic. Sure I might blab it to Tim and a few others within an hour but you'll know we had that one hour or so of trust."

The light turned green.

Garfield was quiet.

"OK, that was a joke," explained Victor. "See, normally people laugh at things like those-you especially. Now I know something's wrong with you if you won't laugh."

Victor came up to the apartment complex and put it in park.

"What's the matter?"

Garfield lowered his head.

"I'm…I'm going to be leaving soon, Victor."

"Yeah, but tell me your problem first."

"That _is_ my problem. I'm going to be leaving and-"

"You mean 'leaving' as in 'dying'? Oh, Jesus, the cancer wasn't gone was it?"

"It's gone but…the bills are coming in and…we may have to move away. We can't afford to-we can't a-ff-aff-"

Garfield broke down and sobbed in his hands.

Victor wanted to exit the car. Sure he had seen Garfield cry before. He had also seen him happy, laughing, angry, frustrated and yet when he cried-or when anyone cried-it made Victor incredibly uncomfortable.

"C-can't you do anything?" asked Victor.

Garfield stopped sobbing and shrugged. "Maybe…I don't know anymore. I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Well, wait, hold on," insisted Victor. "Look, you've been through enough shit in your life and if you move away then chances are you won't be in the State Championship."

"That's right," said Garfield. "So unless Donald Trump or all the people in town give me money like I'm George Freaking Bailey, then I'm screwed!"

* * *

As soon as Victor returned home, he approached his father.

"Dad, when is that article going in the paper?"

Mr. Stone flipped open a book and replied, "Saturday."

"Is it too late to…add something to it?"

Mr. Stone looked up at his son. "No, but we'll have to do it within twelve hours. What did you have in mind?"

* * *

Saturday morning, Garfield woke up and quickly got dressed so that he could eat a quick meal and head over to the gym. His mother had already gone to the office.

As he picked up the Jump City Times, he scanned the front cover and nearly had a heart attack when he saw himself on the front cover striking the speed-bag under the caption, "TEEN BOXER VOWS TO WIN STATE CHAMPIONSHIP".

"Oh, good God," remarked Garfield in total shock.

_When told that he would have to spend two days in bed after a week in the hospital for life saving surgery for skin cancer, Garfield Logan instantly knew that he was going to do no such thing. Despite doctor's orders to rest, Garfield dashed down the streets of Jump City to Titans Boxing Club where he had been training for the past four months. He told his trainer Bruce Wayne that he had a goal._

"_He literally took me by surprise," said Wayne, a former State Champion and pro heavyweight. "The confidence he showed walking through that door made me realize that he was serious. Sure, I knew that he was supposed to be resting but I knew that he didn't want that."_

_The next day, Garfield had come in at ten o'clock in the morning to begin training while other students his age were at school (He had been giving time off to recuperate). He didn't stop until seven thirty that night._

"_I've never seen anyone train so extensively," observes Alfred Pennyworth, Wayne's former trainer and partner at Titans Boxing Club. "I've trained in England, Canada and the United States and that was probably the most extreme workout I've ever seen."_

_Deciding that boxing would be an excellent way to build up body strength, Garfield joined the club in November of last year. _

"_I never really thought of competing at all," Garfield remarked. "I just thought it would be a great way to get in shape. But after a while, after doing sparring, I just wanted to get in that ring for real. Then I was told about a bout that our school was putting on and I decided to enter it. And in that fight I KO'd an amateur who had won all his fights in first round KO's. I did that in the second round. And that really surged my confidence."_

_Garfield's friends and fellow gym rats tend to agree with him. Though he is the least experienced among them, they all believe that he is capable of pulling off a victory._

"_It won't be an easy fight-any one of them," guesses Victor Stone. "But I've seen him get hammered in the first round and them come back and destroy his opponent in the second round."_

_One of the two female boxers in the gym, Raven Roth, encourages Garfield's training. "I think that boxing is what makes him who he is. He comes in here, makes us all feel good about ourselves and when we see a guy like him training like he does, it makes us want to train even harder."_

"_He makes our own goals seem a bit easier to obtain," Kori Anders insists. "I think it would be fair to say that Garfield is an inspiration to this gym."_

"_He's my friend and my sparring partner," says Tim Drake. "I've broken his nose once, and I've never done that again. So either he's getting better or I'm getting soft on my punches. However, I know that he won't be pulling any punches against his opponents."_

_Now that he has beaten his skin cancer, Garfield now has a new battle to face with the State Championship and medical bills which have threatened his chances of staying in town and competing in the Championship._

"Victor," gasped Garfield.

Of course, it all made sense. Victor had quietly put out a subtle call for Garfield's aide to pay for the bills.

_Doubt anyone's going to mail anything_, Garfield thought as he continued to read the article.

_Wayne also agrees with his trainees that Garfield is an inspiration to the entire club._

"_He came into my office and told me that he had been diagnosed with skin cancer…and I felt this bomb go off inside of me. It was almost like an out of body experience."_

"_That was the most shocking thing I'd ever been told by him," remarks Dick Grayson, a trainer and fighter at the club. "But what really shocked me more was when he said he was going to continue training."_

_With the State Championship starting at the end of June, Garfield doesn't want to waste anytime._

"_I don't know who I'm facing," he admits, "but I know that I have never wanted to win something or whup somebody so bad."_

_But Garfield isn't the only member of Titans Boxing Club hoping to get to the top. Boxers Tim Drake, Victor Stone, Dick Grayson, Kori Anders and Raven Roth will be joining Garfield in the quest for the gold._

_See _**BOXING** _on Page A3._

"What the hell is this doing on the front page?" asked Garfield as he flipped to the page. "For that matter, what the hell am _I _doing on the front page?"

_Being diagnosed with skin cancer after winning his first fight, Garfield kept it hidden until January when he would be entering chemotherapy. He also decided that he would continue training._

"_That was…a pretty hard time," Garfield admits with a small laugh. "I would come in and I'd be so tired but I didn't want anyone to think that I was getting weaker and weaker and the simple truth was that I was getting weaker."_

"_You could tell by the look on his face," Wayne remembers. "He would come in looking terrible and do his hardest. Finally he came because he wanted to and he would either watch or fall asleep."_

_After having surgery earlier this month, Garfield returned to the gym._

"_This is God's work," believes Pennyworth. "Garfield is here with us today because God has great things for him. He has great plans for all of the boxers here."_

_And while others may think that he's taking it slowly, Garfield Logan is pushing himself as far as he can go. _

"_Bruce would just throw medicine balls at his stomach," remembers Drake. "And he was throwing them hard! Now I've had medicine balls thrown at me but never that hard. I think I'd be afraid if I knew something was going to hit me that hard."_

"_I think he really does it for us," guesses Roth. "We've taken him this far with our guidance and friendship and he's doing this to show that he's serious and to thank us."_

"_I don't know what goes through his mind when he is training," admits Anders, "but I know he's thinking of holding that Championship belt."_

"_I've sparred with him and even though he's a few weight classes below me, he can sure prove to be a challenge," quips Stone. "I'm willing to bet with anyone, that Gar Logan wins his first match by KO."_

"_Anyone who needs an inspiration needs to look at Garfield Logan," insists Dick Grayson. "If I'd gone through what he did, I don't know if I would be in the gym or not."_

"_He's the best featherweight I know," insists Drake. "If Garfield Logan loses, he is still going to be an inspiration for me and a lot of other people in this gym and hopefully in the city."_

_The boxers at Titans Boxing Gym will enter the State Championship on June 24th. A location has yet to be determined. _

In between paragraphs of the article was the picture of the entire club in the fighting position.

Garfield dashed out of the house, stomach empty and heart pounding.

* * *

Garfield entered an empty gym.

Virtually empty.

Bruce may have been up in his office with Alfred but Garfield didn't want to go bother them.

Garfield felt embarrassed and furious with himself. Here he was, a rookie who hadn't been boxing for six months and yet he was making the front cover of the paper. He could imagine Dick, Tim, Victor, Kori and Raven being a bit upset. He was being given more honour than his friends who knew the craft better than he.

_Now I know how all those guys who beat Scorsese feel_, he thought. _OK, know what? Don't bring it up. Just don't mention it. Besides, have they even seen the paper? Probably not. You're in the clear, Gar._

Upon entering the changing room, Victor and Tim were already in their roadwork uniforms. When they saw him they both started bowing to him and chanted, "We're not worthy. We're not worthy."

_Then again, they probably did._

"It's the hero of _Titans Boxing Club_," declared Victor.

_This is going to go on all day_, sighed Garfield.

On a particularly cold day, roadwork could be really hard. Especially when you do it for three miles in the roughest neighbourhood in Jump City. Like Steel City's boxing gym, their own club was in a bad part of town.

But when you had Bruce leading the group, it felt like you had a battering ram in front of you to knock anything bad out of the way.

Wanna score some crack?

BAM!

Anyone wanna see a dead body?

BAM!

Looking for a good time?

If it was a woman, no BAM!Just keep on running.

If it was a man, BAM!

Garfield always felt a cold chill go through his body when he saw the gangs on the streets, sitting in front of their turfs.

"One minute stretch," called Bruce.

The group stopped and began one minute of stretching.

The gang members looked on in interest.

Garfield didn't glance at them, knowing that the wrong stare could get him in trouble and he didn't really want it.

"You looked good in the paper," remarked Raven as she stretched next to him.

"Really?" asked Garfield.

"Yeah. So…how does it feel to be a celebrity?"

Garfield sighed. "I'm hoping that's not what I become."

"You're an actor," reminded Raven. "I thought that's what you wanted to be."

"It is," insisted Garfield. "But I don't want to be famous because I was sick. I want to be famous because of my talent."

"That is why you're in there," corrected Raven. "Your talent as a boxer and your determination is what makes you so great."

"But it's what makes all of us great," said Garfield. "Not just me."

"Well, for now, you should get used to being flavour of the month," said Raven as they continued jogging.

* * *

Two and a half miles later, the group returned to the gym to find Alfred on the phone.

"Yes, you are allowed to come and watch them train," he told whoever was at the other end. "No, we don't mind if you take pictures so long as you do not get in the way." Another pause before, "We close at four o'clock. Yes, bring as many as you like but don't get in the way. Thank you. Goodbye."

"What was that about?" asked Bruce.

Dick emerged from the upper office and descended the stairs.

"Phone's been ringing off the hook ever since you guys left," he explained. "Seems we've become celebrities."

* * *

And Dick was right, for the next couple of hours, people would come into the gym and even though they were asked if they wanted to train with the other boxers, the civilians shook their heads or just said 'No thanks' with a smile.

_Pure intimidation_, thought Tim as he skipped rope. _They don't want to look bad in front of us._

Every once in a while, the flash from a camera would fill the air, causing the boxers to look towards the source of the flash to see who had been captured on film.

It was after a while that Garfield was called into Bruce's office.

"Look, I'm sorry about the article," he apologized.

"I don't know why," said Bruce. "It's a really good article and-"

"It's all about me when it shouldn't be. It should be about us!"

"It is about us," insisted Bruce. "However, you're the main attraction."

Garfield sighed and sat down. "What did you want to see me for?"

Bruce tapped his desk. On the desk was the article.

"You're having trouble with the bills?" he asked.

Garfield grabbed the sides of the chair.

_Oh no, don't do this…_

"Yeah," he replied.

"When I saw this…I called two people, Victor and your mother at the office this morning. Both of them sounded very upset about it."

"It's…it's nobody's business but ours," mumbled Garfield.

"I'm making it my business," Bruce said sternly. "For two reasons: Number one, you're a fighter in my gym. Not just any fighter but a popular one. Number two, I'm dating your mother. I like your mother. A lot. I couldn't call myself a man if I didn't do this."

Bruce pulled out a chequebook from one of the drawers, opened it and began scribbling something. "I'm going to show this to you. Pick it up from me at the end of your workout today. I don't want you waving it around because I don't want Tim asking for a raise in his allowance."

* * *

As Victor pounded on the speed-bag, Garfield quietly approached him.

"Why did you do that?" he asked his friend quietly yet almost angrily.

"Do what?" asked Victor.

"Put that thing about the medical bills in there?"

"Look…this is going to sound strange but, I got my reasons."

"What are they?" asked Garfield sternly. "What could possibly motivate you like that to have a line like that put in the paper so that I have Bruce writing me a five digit check?"

Victor looked into the speed bag he was pounding and into the past.

Rain had polluted most of October of 2004.

_Rain blows_, thought Victor Stone as he walked through the school. Granted it wasn't raining, but it was like a mist. He had been kept an fifteen minutes late to finish a test. Sure it took him the longest to complete a test but at least he wasn't one of those guys who didn't finish at the bell and just walked out, losing valuable marks.

As he walked towards the student parking lot he looked behind him and saw Josh Richet had cornered some weakling near the dumpsters and was trash talking him.

"Smart ass, dickless _faggot_!" spat Richet as he punched the weakling to the ground.

Now at his car door, Victor decided to watch the show in case a brawl started. Then he would either break it up or join in.

Richet kneed the weakling in the face, sending his head slamming against the dumpster.

_Ouch_, thought Victor. _Come on, it ain't over. Get up, get up._

The weakling got up.

_Damn, that boy's thin_, Victor observed of the weakling. _He don't got a chance._

"What's the matter, _faggot_?" asked Richet as he punched the weakling in the face. "Think because I know you from another school I won't beat the shit out of you like before?"  
_Show some attitude_, Victor begged the weakling. _Don't be such a pussy. At least try to hit him._

The weakling looked terrified. There was a small cut above his left eye and there was blood in his slightly spiked hair.

Richet slammed him against the dumpster.

"Get used to this on a weekly basis," Richet said coolly. "You cock-sucking bastard!"

He then punched the weakling seven times in either the head or the body.

When it was all over, the weakling had blood oozing from his nostrils and his mouth.

"Shit," muttered Victor. "That's just so pathetic." He got into his car and drove to the boxing club, never thinking that one day later that year in November, that same weakling would come into the gym, introducing himself as Garfield Logan.

Victor recognized him instantly but decided to never bring it up because every time he thought of it after he and Garfield became friends, it made him hate himself.

* * *

"I got my reasons," Victor repeated. "It's sort of a…way to fix the past. When I did that it made me feel better about myself." He turned to Garfield. "You've made me realize that things aren't going to get better if I just sit around and hope for something to get better. I got to jump in and take action. I did that. You may be mad at me for that but if you knew what I knew…I think you would hate me."

"Whoa…" said Garfield. "That was…deep." He sighed. "OK, it's just…I don't know. I've never really expected anyone to give me money before because they feel sorry for me."

"Well, like it or not," said Victor as he continued to pound the bag, "you got it. But it ain't because we feel sorry for you. It's because we care about you. And when we said you're in inspiration, we meant it, that wasn't so you'd get your own made-for-TV-movie."

* * *

Garfield was taking a half hour break. While on said break he was sipping some strawberry Gatorade and munching on a chocolate energy bar.

"Excuse me, are you Garfield Logan?" asked a voice.

Garfield turned and saw a woman with a seven year old boy.

"Yeah, I am," said Garfield.

"This is my son, Jeffery," explained the woman. "He survived cancer and as soon as I read to him the article about you, he immediately begged me to see if we could get a picture of you."

"Did you just get here?" asked Garfield as he got up. He didn't want anyone to get a picture of him eating an energy bar. "Because if you didn't get any before, I can go and hit the bags for a while-"

"Oh, no. We've gotten almost an entire role. It's just that we have one more picture to take and…he'd like to have it taken with you."

Jeffery was rather quiet. He was dressed for the cold outside but seemed to find discomfort in the hot gym.

"How you doing, Jeffery?" asked Garfield as he held out his wrapped fist for him to tap.

Jeffery tapped it but remained quiet.

"He's really shy," explained his mother. She bent down towards her son and said quietly, "Do you still want your picture taken?"

Jeffery nodded. He approached Garfield by the side. Garfield got down to his level and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Smile," encouraged his mom.

Garfield smiled.

Jeffery did also.

The camera clicked and a second later the film began rolling back.

"You ever watch boxing?" Garfield asked.

Jeffery nodded.

"You ever throw a punch?" asked Garfield.

Jeffery shook his head.

"OK," said Garfield as he held up his wrapped hands and showed the boy his palms. "I want you to just punch my palms."

Jeffery gave punches like he was bending his elbow and bringing it back up. Granted most 7 year olds don't know how to fight and would just flail their arms.

"That's tough," Garfield said in a loud playful voice. He looked at his mother. "You've got a little Ali on your hands."

* * *

At around 4PM the crowds had disappeared.

"Did you see how many people were here?" asked Tim as he pulled off his gloves.

"It's like we're actual pros or something," remarked Victor.

"We have become celebrities," said Kori. "Perhaps we shall end up on Oprah."

"Perhaps not," said Garfield as he approached Raven.

There was laughter from the teens.

The laughter was followed by gunshots.

There were close.

Very close.

"GET DOWN," cried Bruce.

Not knowing if it was instinct or not, Garfield grabbed Raven and pulled her to the ground and used his body as a blanket.

Cars zoomed by and the shots seemed to be coming from right next to them.

"STAY DOWN!"

After a while, the sound of gunfire left as quickly as it had come.

Garfield slow moved off of Raven.

Tim was the first to get up. He had been around guns and gunshots most of his life. He was used to it anywhere.

"Everyone all right?" he asked.

"Damn lucky I didn't have a heart attack," declared Alfred. "Haven't heard something like that since my time in the military."

Bruce moved towards the phone and dialled 911.

"This is Bruce Wayne at _Titans Boxing Club_. There were shots just fired in the area. I didn't see who it was…no one's hurt. Yes. It was like a car was having a shootout with another car. Already been notified? Fine. Yes, we'll wait for the police officer."

Bruce hung up the phone. "I don't want anyone leaving until we've talked with the police."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, a police officer showed up to take statements from the club. Most of them were the same.

"Do you know who did this?" asked Tim.

"We do," answered the officer. "Gangs. The Joker's just came to town and we think they want to be the big gang here like they are in Gotham."

Tim froze when he heard those words.

Then his blood began to boil.

"Did you catch them?" he asked.

The officer nodded. "Friends of mine did. They already got booked. We're gonna hold onto them as long as we can."

"What about more Jokers?" asked Tim as Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.

"Those are the only ones. They said so. But, I think more may show up soon."

* * *

Tim showered and quickly left the locker room.

Bruce was waiting for him.

"Guess what I heard?" he asked.

"What?" asked Tim.

"Seems that a couple of bullets struck the school. The board is keeping it closed for two days. You get a little holiday."

"Yippee," said Tim duly.

"Hey, I'm sorry," said Bruce. "I just don't want you to obsess about-"

"There's nothing to obsess about," said Tim.

"I also don't want you to worry yourself either. They aren't going to hurt you again. OK?"

"OK."

Bruce rubbed his hand through Tim's hair. As much as he wanted to believe Tim wasn't going to obsess, something kept telling him that he had to be careful.

"Do whatever you want tonight."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I've got a date," answered Bruce.

* * *

Back in the locker room, Garfield and Victor found Tim's behaviour rather odd.

"Wonder what's up with him," said Victor.

"I don't know," said Garfield.

Tim came back into the room.

"School was hit by the gunfire," he said.

"No way!" exclaimed Victor.

"Way," said Tim. "We got two days off."

"Well, that calls for a celebration," said Garfield. "You guys wanna spend the night?"

"No can do," said Victor. "My folks and me are gonna visit my grandma cause she broke her leg."

"I'll go," said Tim. "Bruce is taking your mom out and Dick's going clubbing. Might as well keep each other company."

* * *

Raven showered with trembling hands. As she dried off and redressed, Kori looked over at her.

"Are you injured?" she asked.

Raven shook her head.

"I've never been shot at," she said.

"We were not the targets," corrected Kori. "If you recall, none of the bullets went through the windows."

"Yeah, but…I've never been that close before."

"You would have been safe regardless of whether or not we were the target."

"How?"

Kori put her shirt back on.

"Garfield threw himself on top of you," stated Kori.

Raven blushed. "Yeah, he did."

"Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?"

Raven sighed. "I don't know. I want to but I don't want to go right out. Times like this I wish I was a guy. But then I look at them and I take it all back."

* * *

Sally was home when Garfield arrived.

She thought it was fine that Garfield was having Tim over for the night.

Bruce had already called her and she loved the idea of going out tonight.

But she couldn't figure out what the surprise was. He said that he gave to Garfield.

Sally Logan screamed when she saw it.

"He can't give us this!" she declared.

"What? Mom, he _wants _to."

"But…we can't accept this!"

"Why not? Look, Mom, he clearly wants to help us. He's your boyfriend and he's my coach. It only makes sense that he wants to help us."

"But…" tears were in Sally's eyes. "How can you just give someone $75,000 and not expect anything in return."

"I think all he would want in return is for us to accept it."

Sally sighed. "Fine…we'll take it. But we're still going to owe quite a bit."

"I'll get a job," said Garfield. "I'll become a pimp and whore out the skanks at school."

"Language, Garfield," scolded Sally.

* * *

Tim arrived with Bruce and an overnight bag.

Bruce left with Sally-who decided to bring up the money as soon as the children were out of earshot.

"Hey, before we do anything," said Tim as he pulled out a notebook, "can you give me a hand with my Writer's Craft."

"Sure," smiled Garfield. "What is it you need help with?"

"Well, Marhoney said that I need to work on description. And like since you're…good at every class we're in, I figured you could help me."

Tim opened the notebook to where he had just finished his latest assignment.

"Tell me what you think," he said.

Garfield read it and re-read it.

"OK," said Garfield. "Do you mind if I'm honest?"

"Go ahead."

"You've given me a script."

"What?"

"A script. Basically, it's just the people talking and then you say that this person went here. You don't…it's just dull."

"Oh."

"Sorry."

"OK, our assignment for whenever we get back to school is to describe something that moves and describe it creatively. And we can do it however we want, right?"

"Yeah," answered Tim.

Garfield held up a finger. "Watch this, but don't do it." Garfield moved his mouth around and quickly spat into the air. After a half second flight, the saliva came crashing down on the floor.

"What the heck are you doing?" asked Tim.

"Describe that," instructed Garfield. "Describe it now."

"You spat."

"No! Use detail. Be creative."

"You spat and…it crashed on the floor."

"Good," said Garfield. "Now…describe when it came out."

Tim thought. "Uh, you made a sound, like you had stepped on a twig and it came out…"

"Keep going," encouraged Garfield. "This is good."

"That huge wad of spit came out when your mouth was so small it was like it slipped through like…"

"Like what?" asked Garfield.

"A greased pig," said Tim.

"Greased pig?"

"You don't like greased pig?"

"No, it's good. Just where'd you get it?"

"Heard Kori mention it once and it stuck with me."

"OK, so write what you've said."

Tim got out a pen and began scribbling in his notebook.

"'The sound of a twig, followed by the saliva slipping out through the thin lips like a greased pig.' Hey, that sounds pretty good."

"Let's make it really good," said Garfield. "Now that it's out of my mouth, tell me where it's going."

"It shot up," remembered Tim. He moved towards the couch and lay across it like he was back in Teal's office. "It was, like a…roller coaster! It was like a roller coaster! It got up really quick but went down even quicker!" Tim wrote that down as well. "And…the ride suddenly came to an end when it crashed into the floor, sending it wetness as far as it could reach."

Garfield clapped his hands. "I think you just got yourself an A."

"Great. So now that that's done, I got something you might like." Tim reached into his backpack and pulled out a DVD.

"What is that?" asked Garfield.

"This," replied Tim, "is the first fight between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier. The Fight of the Century as it was called. All 15 rounds. No commentary."

"Great," said Garfield. He moved towards the fridge, opened it up and frowned. "Damn it," he cursed.

Tim turned around from the couch. "What is it?"

"We don't got any pop." He moved towards his coat. "I'll run out and get some."

"Well I'll go with you-"

"Tim it's cold out. Just…relax. Chill here and I'll be back."

Garfield was out the door before Tim could even protest.

He lay back on the couch and figured he would rest his eyes.

_Couch is comfy_, he thought.

His mind began to drift. Soon he was at that fine line between awake and asleep.

He crossed over the line.

A pounding at the door woke him up two seconds later.

Tim went to the door and looked through the peephole with his right eye.

There was Garfield. It looked like he had been waiting outside the door for sometime.

_Why the hell did he knock? _Tim thought as he opened the door.

The door blew off the hinges, knocking Tim on the floor in a daze.

"What the-"

There were Jokers at the doorway.

Garfield was nowhere to be seen.

Tim became paralyzed with fear but before he could move, they grabbed his feet and his hands. They lifted him as he struggled.

Through the doorway came the Joker Tim met before. The tall one with the all white skin and the dark green hair. The one Tim had been modeled after. This was the one who scared Tim the most.

"Fancy meeting you here, Timbo," he sneered. He turned towards the doorway. "Oh, I think we found someone you know." Another Joker came forward, holding Garfield in his huge arm. Garfield's legs were tied together and his arms to his torso. There was duct tape over his mouth. He had terror all over his face. He looked at Tim, hoping he would have a solution to their emergency.

"Don't you dare touch him!" spat Tim.

"He begged us not to harm his mother," said the lead Joker. "Told us he loved her with all his heart. So we'll leave it for her in the mailbox."

The Joker holding Garfield drew a knife with a large blade.

Garfield saw it and began to give muffled screeches as he squirmed in his captor's arms.

Tim screamed and tried to struggle but his captors had the strength of Goliath.

The Joker and Garfield moved out of sight.

There was the sound of a crunch.

Garfield screamed. It almost sounded like a young child.

Tim could hear Garfield's legs thrashing and thrashing and thrashing…then they stopped.

"GARFIELD!" screamed Tim. He thrashed as hard as he could. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL! YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!"

The lead Joker looked at Tim.

"You've changed, Timbo. Looks like you've gotten too much sun. We'll have to change that."

Tim could feel himself being moved towards the late Garfield's bedroom. He kept screaming at them to put him down. He was pleading with them not to paint him again.

"Sorry, Timbo," said the lead Joker as Tim's shirt was pulled off, "but we can't have you walking around like a freak the way you are now."

Like a magic trick, a paintbrush covered in white paint instantly appeared in his hand. Without waiting for any permission, he began to paint Tim's naked chest as the young teen screamed.

"God damn you," screamed Tim.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," said the lead Joker. "You're being a very bad boy, Timbo. I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a spanking."

The lead Joker dropped the paintbrush and moved his hand under the bed to reveal a crowbar.

Tim screamed and began squirming and struggling but it was still no use.

"Hold him tight," instructed the lead Joker. "I don't want him to get away." He got down to Tim's level to marvel at how well Tim had been re-modeled. Perfect white skin on the top half-he would do the bottom after the beating-and beautiful green hair.

"You've been a bad boy," he told Tim. "You must be punished." He brought the crowbar up. "Prepare yourself for a severe spanking, young man. But let me tell you right from the start…this is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me!"

The crowbar whistled through the air until it made contact with Tim's chest.

Tim, though in serious pain, continued to scream for help, hoping on of the tenants would hear him.

* * *

Garfield Logan had one plastic bag in each hand. The first bag in his left hand held two large plastic bottles of pop (Pepsi and Mountain Dew) and the second bag in his right hand contained two large bags of potato chips (regular and salt and vinegar).

_Should have bought some candy_, thought Garfield. _Actually we got enough junk food at home-we don't need any. Besides I don't-_

That was when Garfield heard the scream.

It was a terrible blood soaked scream.

Garfield instantly recognized it as Tim's voice.

A resident from a nearby apartment stuck her head out the door.

"What's going on?" she asked.

The scream came again and this time, Garfield could hear what Tim was saying.

"Please, don't hurt me again! Don't hurt me, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Garfield dropped both bags and dashed towards the door.

"Don't do anything," he called to the neighbour.

Another scream came.

Garfield instantly opened the door to find Tim on the couch, thrashing around, fighting an invisible enemy. He stuck his head out the door and called, "It's all right," to the tenant.

Garfield closed the door and quickly approached Tim. He grabbed his flailing arms and called out his name.

"Tim, Tim," cried Garfield as he clenched Tim's wrists .

Tim eyes shot open. He looked at Garfield and quickly jumped up from the couch. He moved towards the door and locked it.

"What're you doing?" asked Garfield.

Tim moved into the kitchen and found the biggest knife he could find.

"Can't let them hurt us," he mumbled.

"Let who?" asked Garfield as he approached Tim.

"The Jokers," Tim nearly hissed.

"Tim, there are no Jokers outside," said Garfield as he approached the door to go get his bags.

Clutching the knife, Tim whispered, "Don't open that door! They're out there."

Garfield opened the door.

"They're going to kill you," whimpered Tim.

"There's no one there," Garfield said as he looked around in the hallway.

Tim moved quickly and saw that what Garfield was saying was true. A cool sweat leaked from his pores onto the floor as he violently turned his head left and right to make sure what Garfield said was true.

Garfield went out in the hallway to retrieve his bags while Tim watched him with hawk eyes, ready to jump out and stab anyone with a painted face who would want to hurt either him or Garfield.

No one appeared.

Tim turned back into the apartment and dropped the knife, almost like he was in a daze.

When he got back into the apartment, Garfield quickly picked up the knife and put it back in it's block and then put his groceries on the counter.

Tim stood where he was, shaking.

"You had a nightmare or something," said Garfield as he lead Tim back to the couch. "What the heck was going on in that dream?"

"They got me again," said Tim as he looked at the floor. "They got me again…they killed you. And they were beating me."

"Wait," said Garfield as he sat down next to Tim, "what do you mean 'again'. Did you run into Joker's before?"

Tim looked into Garfield's eyes. "Do you promise not to tell?"

* * *

Garfield was angry.

They had hurt his friend.

No.

They had hurt his brother.

"And that night, Bruce told me he was going to adopt me," finished Tim. "But…every night after I came home, I would have nightmares."

"Same as before?" asked Garfield-trying to conceal his anger.

"Always different. But this one…it seemed so real."

"What happened?"

"I-I answered the door and they kicked it off and…they killed you. They…removed your heart."

"Oh."

"And then they painted me again but…the Joker got mad and he started to beat me."

"Have you ever…told anyone about these dreams?"

"No…I wanted to tell Dick but-I didn't want to burden him. He was almost crying when I came home."

Garfield put his arm around Tim.

"Are you going to be OK? Do you wanna catch the bus back to your place."

Tim shook his head. "Right now…I really don't want to be alone."

Garfield gently shook Tim. "God, Tim, you're a braver person than anyone I know."

"I wanted to die after it happened-"

"Stop," said Garfield. "I don't need you to bring back those bad memories. You're alive. And pretty soon you're going to have a father that cares about because he's told you ever since you've known him."

Tim nodded and then looked at Garfield.

"What about your dad?"

Garfield turned on the TV, hoping to find sweet distraction. "Where's the DVD?" he asked.

"Gar, what about your dad?"

"What about him?" asked Garfield though he knew where Tim was going. It seems that he had unwillingly fallen into the trap. He had gotten a dose of Tim's personal life and now Tim was going to get his equal amount.

"Did he ever call you or…write to you?"

"He wrote. I wrote him letters, begging him to come visit me because at that point I wasn't sure if I was going to get better." Garfield gave a small chuckle. "I, uh, I later got a letter, telling me that…he couldn't make it. He was…too busy with work, he couldn't get the time off." Garfield laughed. "You know, it's funny. I've never met the man, I'm his son, I might have _died_…and he still wouldn't come. He wouldn't even give me a phone call!" Garfield's knuckles were white, he was clenching his fists so tight. "So why is it that I still want to see him?"

Tim sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You probably want a sense of closure," guessed Tim. "It's just like me, probably. You want to see the person who made you and you want to know if he loves you."

"He says he does in my letters but…I want to _hear_ him say it."

"Hey, dude, let's just forget about it," said Tim. He snatched the remote from Garfield's hand. "Let's just watch one of the greatest fights in boxing history."

As the DVD loaded, Garfield looked over at Tim.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," he said.

Tim nodded. "Me too."

"If you have any nightmares tonight, just wake me when you're done. I'll help you."

"Thanks. You promise not to tell anyone?"

"To the grave."

"Thanks. It's just…I get so angry when I think of them and I feel that I'm going to get distracted from the State Championship and that-"

"Tim…call me crazy-"

"You are."

"-but I may have just figured a way to help you."

"What?"

"I'll explain it in the club."

Tim shrugged. "OK."

The opening segment started with Ali and Frazier trash talking each other and then the credits started.

"I just want you to know," said Garfield as the credits rolled, "that…I would have killed those Jokers if they hurt you any worse than they did."

"Get in line," said Tim.

* * *

It was late when the teens went to sleep that night.

Garfield took the couch while Tim slept in a sleeping bag.

At 1:24AM, Garfield awoke to Tim's panting and moaning.

"Dad, Dad, help me! They want to paint me! Please help me, they're going to kill me! Dad!'

Garfield rolled off the couch and awoke Tim, who burst into tears on Garfield's wife beater.

"He let them take me," sobbed Tim. "He laughed as they took me."

Garfield hugged his friend and resisted his own urge to cry. Tim was his idol and now he had been reduced to a frightened child.

_I'm going to kill them_, thought Garfield. _I'm going to kill anyone who so much looks like a clown._

Sally came into the living room wearing a white robe over her pink pajamas.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"I'll be right back," Garfield said to Tim.

He nodded and put his arms on his knees. He was clearly trembling.

Garfield lead his mother out of Tim's hearing range.

"What's going on, Garfield?" she asked with concern.

Garfield wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her and cry on her shoulder too.

_They hurt him, Mom. They hurt Tim! And I couldn't do anything to help him!_

"I can't tell you," he said.

"Is he in trouble?"

"Yes and no. By yes I mean I can help him and by no I mean no way in hell can you mention this to Bruce."

Sally sighed. "Are you sure?"

Garfield nodded. "Yes. Go get some sleep." _I don't know what to do, Mom. I need to save my brother._

Sally returned to her room and Garfield returned to Tim, who latched onto Garfield like he was a life buoy and began to sob quietly.

"I'm so sorry," said Tim as tears came from his eyes. "I shouldn't have told you."

"I'm your _Luva Irmao_," said Garfield. "I'm your brother just as much inside the gym and the ring as I am outside."

Tim gave a chuckle. "I want to stop crying…but I can't."

Garfield swallowed saliva. "I know the feeling."

"You're such a good friend, Garfield," sobbed Tim.

Garfield patted Tim on the back. "After all you've done for me…I think you can cry on my shoulder anytime."

Tim continued to cry for another fifteen minutes until he fell asleep. Garfield carefully moved him back into his sleeping bag and moved himself so that he slept close to Tim.

As he looked at his friend's sleeping frame, Garfield became angry.

_Forget Monday. The moment Tim wakes up I'm going to save him. And if my method doesn't work, then I'm going to kill every Joker from here to Gotham to make sure he stays safe._

Sally let them sleep in until 11AM when she walked out the door.

To Be Continued...

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I just want you guys to know, I haven't gotten any flames lately but I don't want you to think that I'm having Tim and Gar be gay or anything. The truth is this is heterosexual love. Those who need an example should watch _The Shawshank Redemption_. This isn't _Brokeback Mountain_. Oh, God, imagine that in _this _fic. Whoo...that'd be just REALLY creepy. _Brokeback Titans_...now chances are somebody's gonna read that and make a fic out of it.

Anyway, lather, read and review.


	13. Who We Are

Well, you've all been good little boys and girls so I've decided to reward your behaviour with an update of Raging Beast Boy. Who will live? And who will die? And who will meet legendary action star Chuck Norris? The answer…is nobody. I normally give shoutouts to all the people who've reviewed but I realize that I do once you review and sometimes I do it even more so…you understand. Just give me a signed in review and you'll get a reply. Honest Abe! Anyway, without futhur ado...your story.

Chapter 13: Who We Are...

Something was burning.

Or under extreme heat.

Tim's nose couldn't decide which.

"Come on, Tim," he heard Garfield say, followed by the sound of a wooden spoon beating against an empty pot.

Tim moaned. "Too early," he managed as he put his arm over his closed eyes.

"It's eleven bells, Tim. Way too late on a Sunday. Especially for me."

"I don't hear any bells," groaned Tim.

"No," said Garfield. "It's eleven o'clock. Eleven bells. That's how those Navy people do it."

_Eleven bells? _thought Tim. _What the heck does he think I am, a sailor?_

There was a sound of something sizzling.

"What are you making?" he asked as he opened his eyes and sat up.

"You're gonna love these," said Garfield. "Chocolate chip pancakes."

Tim gave a yawn and stretched his arms as he climbed out of his sleeping bag.

"Finished," crowed Garfield as he turned off the stove. He picked up two big plates off the counter and brought them to the table where he placed one plate at one end and the other plate at the opposite end.

Tim sat down at one end and gaped at the amount of food on his plate. He'd never imagined someone would eat pancakes so big.

"Gar, there are eight pancakes here. And they're huge!"  
Garfield nodded and started cutting into one.

"That's right, eat up."

"Eat up?"

"Yeah, you're hungry, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Wait!" exclaimed Garfield. He went to the fridge and got out a carton of orange juice. He wore a green bathrobe that blew as he quickly moved. It was like he was moving in the wind.

"Do you like pulp?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter to me," answered Tim.

"No pulp it is then," said Garfield. He got two glasses out of the cupboard and brought them to the table. He poured the juice into both glasses and then sat down again.

"What's with the big meal?" asked Tim.

"I'm training you today. I'm going to help you."

"With what?"

"Your nightmares."

Tim sighed and put a piece of pancake in his mouth.

"You don't need to," said Tim. "You know-maybe they can give me something that doesn't make me dream."

Garfield shook his head. "I'd prefer that you have nightmares than no dreams at all."

"Why?"

"If we don't dream, we go crazy."

"We do?"

"We do. Nuts, loony, off our rocker." Garfield leaned forward. "But I think I know a way to help you."

"How?"

"Eat first, get dressed, then I'll help you."

"OK. Hey, where's your mom?"

"Brunch, with some friends from the office."

"She didn't invite us?"

"Do you want to have brunch with a bunch of women?"

"Hot women?"  
"Women like my mom."

"Yeah, hot women," smiled Tim.

Garfield threw a pancake at him.

* * *

Dressed in borrowed workout clothes, Tim stood before the speed bag that was once his and now Garfield's. He got a bit nostalgic when he looked at it. 

Garfield was dressed in his own set of workout clothes though he knew Tim would be working out more.

"All right," said Garfield as he stood behind Tim. "Now if this gets too hard or extreme for you, just tell me and we'll stop."

Tim nodded.

"I want you to picture that the speed bag is the face of that Joker," said Garfield. "But before you do that, I want you to think about all the pain he caused you. Honestly think back-put yourself back into that room they held you and-"

Tim screamed and began pounding the speed bag while cursing it at the same time.

"God damn bastard clowns! Know what's funny? KNOW WHAT'S FUNNY? THIS!"

Tim continued to pound the bag and for a second, Garfield was certain that Tim was going to pop the bladder inside the bag.

"NEXT TIME I SEE YOUR UGLY FACES, I'M GOING TO WHUP YOU SO BAD-"

"Tim," said Garfield as he grabbed his friend's arms. "Take it easy."

"What now?" panted Tim.

"Roadwork," said Garfield as he moved towards his dresser drawer. He pulled out his switchblade and handed it to Tim.

"When you run," he instructed, "I want you to pretend that you're chasing the same Joker you imagined earlier."

"Well what's the switchblade for?"

"Don't know. Figured you would want something to make you feel like catching him."

Tim handed the knife back to Garfield. "Sorry, Gar, but if I ever see them, I'll let my fists do all the talking."

Out of nowhere memories of his torture and self hatred flooded through his brain.

_He thinks you're crazy!_

_No…he's my friend-he's trying to help me._

_Help you? The only reason he gave you the knife is to see how crazy you would go over thinking about stabbing a Joker._

_Shut up! Gar wouldn't do something like that._

"Tim?" asked Garfield as he put a hand on his shoulder.

Panic swept through Tim as he debated with himself. Was Gar really trying to see how close to insanity he was or was this just another example of Garfield Logan's unbelievable kindness.

_Take the knife…and let's go cut some Jokers…_

Tim growled and headed out the door.

"Let's run," he said.

_What's going on in your head? _thought Garfield.

* * *

February air had probably the most brutal wind to run through the streets to do roadwork. Tim was dashing ahead, panting heavily, and rage boiling through him. 

_Don't go do this_, the rational part of his mind told him. _Don__'t go looking to do something you know you'll regret._

_No!_ countered the monster in his mind. Tim believed that it might even be a little Joker that might be in him. He pictured that it was how they painted him that was talking to him. _You__'ve got to show them that they can't win over you. No matter what you do, you're still a part of them. They took you-made you one of them. You're a Joker, Tim-bo._

Garfield finally caught up with Tim and grabbed his arm, stopping both of them.

Pulling his arm away, Tim looked infuriated.

"Let's rest for a minute," said Garfield before Tim could say anything.

"Fine," said Tim, as he leant up against a parked car.

_Just forget about it, _the rational thought.

Tim never saw whoever had dashed across the street.

A large painted man popped up from the opposite side of the car. He was dressed like a clown and screamed maniacally.

Tim screamed in shock and backed away. Fear telling him to back off.

Garfield quickly stood next to Tim.

"Get lost," barked Garfield.

"Scared you, scared you," teased the Joker in a sing-song voice.

Tim looked down and saw an empty beer bottle on the ground.

_There's you tool_, instructed the monster, _use it!_

Tim picked up bottle and smashed it just over Garfield's head.

Garfield saw the bottle coming toward him and didn't want to risk it coming in contact with his forehead. He yelped and ducked as pieces of glass showered over his head.

"Kill you, kill you," screamed Tim in the same sing-song manner.

The Joker's eyes went wide. He turned and ran away in the same direction Tim had been running.

Tim chased after him.

Garfield got up and quickly took after him, knowing that he would most likely kill the Joker and then be in trouble that even Garfield couldn't help.

"Help," cried the Joker. "Oh, my God, kid. Just leave me alone!"

"I'll kill you!" screamed Tim.

"Tim," called Garfield. "Stop! Tim, let him go!"

The Joker turned and ran into a park. He ran across the frozen grass, hoping that there would be someone in there who could help him.

Tim was hoping there would be no witnesses.

Garfield was hoping he could catch Tim's legs as he jumped out at them. Sure he had seen lots of football players do it but for someone who never played football? As he soared through the air, he prayed that God would give him a hand.

His arms wrapped at the knees and as soon as Tim tried to move them he came crashing down on the ground as the Joker ran away. Tim's jaw bounced onto the ground and would have surely bit off a piece of his tongue if it had gotten in the way.

Tim began crawling on the ground, his nails digging into the cold soil while Garfield also began crawling on top of Tim, hoping his body weight could keep him subdued.

"Let me go," shrieked Tim. The bottle was out of his hands but too far out of reach. He was able to move another foot before he grabbed the bottle again.

_He's going to stop you_, the monster told Tim. _Kill him!_

Twisting his body, Tim was able to get the bottle in Garfield's face.

Garfield let go and began crawling away. However Tim wasn't as forgiving as he thought he would be. He leapt up and pinned Garfield to the ground. One hand was empty, being held at the wrist by Garfield so he wouldn't choke him. Tim's other hand contained the bottle which was only stopped from going into Garfield's jugular by his friend's hand defending himself.

"You let him get away, you son of a bitch," cursed Tim as he moved the sharp glass towards Garfield's throat.

_Kill him! Make him pay! MAKE HIM PAY!_

Tim was able to get his free hand onto Garfield's throat and began choking him.

Garfield began gasping for air. He had been choked before but this time it was different. Only last night had he thought of Tim as his brother.

Now his brother was trying to kill him either by chocking him or cutting his throat.

_Cain and Abel_ thought Garfield. _No, Tim isn__'t acting like himself. They _really _messed him up. I got to help him or he__'s going to-_

Garfield made a sad little gasp for air. He could feel his head under enormous pressure like it was going to explode like a melon struck by a bullet. Tears formed in Garfield's eyes as his oxygen intake became very low. In his life he had always believed that his death would be the result of violence. But not by someone who had told him he loved him like he was family. That had never been considered.

"Tim…" begged Garfield with teary eyes as he tried to breathe. "P-p-puh-please don't kill me."

"You let him get away," snarled Tim. "You helped the people who hurt me!"

"If I didn't," wheezed Garfield, "you would have killed him!"

Tim growled and brought the glass closer.

"Tim," Garfield managed. He coughed and was able to get out with what strength he had, "you're my brother."

All of a sudden, Tim had an experience he never forgot. Every memory, every second of time he had spent with Garfield Logan flashed through his mind. In nearly one trillionth of a nanosecond, he remembered months of friendship.

_Oh, GOD!_ thought Tim. He got off of Garfield quickly and let him start breathing again.

Garfield coughed violently.

_I'm sick,_ thought Tim. _I tried to kill Gar__…I would have killed him_.

Garfield got up slowly and started towards Tim.

Tim turned the bottle towards himself.

"Get back, Gar," he warned.

"Don't do this, Tim," pleaded Garfield. "God…don't kill yourself."

Tim shook his head. "J-juh-just tell everyone that I love them and that I'm sorry, OK?"

Garfield took a step forward. Only two meters between them.

"Tim, you don't know what you're doing. Drop the bottle and we'll go back to my place. We'll chill…we'll watch the Ali/Frazier fight again."

"I can't ignore this, Gar! I was going to kill you!"

"Listen to me, Tim, I know what you're going through. And the truth is I've been in the exact same spot you are. You feel pain no matter what happens to you and…you think nothing is going to get better-but it will. Tim, put down the bottle. I won't tell anyone and I'll try my hardest to help you."

"I-I can't be helped. I'm sick…and I'm not going to get better."

Garfield stayed still. He watched Tim like he was a child saying he was running away from home.

"So stabbing yourself in the stomach with a broken beer bottle is what's going to make things better?" as he slowly put his hands on his hips.

"If-if I do this…things will be better," argued Tim.

"Better for who?" asked Garfield. "Would it be better for Dick because now he'll never have a little brother? Better for Victor and Raven because now they don't have a friend to cheer them on? Is it going to be better for Kori because now she won't want to go to the prom with anyone? Would it be better for Bruce because now he has to bury another child as a result of the Jokers? Those are the only people who it would be better for, Tim. Because they would know they got to you. Kill yourself now…and the Jokers win."

The bottle dropped from Tim's hand and onto the grass.

Garfield walked over to his friend and put his arm around him.

"I'm a bad person," said Tim as they started walking back to Garfield's place.

"No, you're not," disagreed Garfield.

Tim was quiet before asking Garfield, "You…thought about killing yourself?"

Garfield let some air in through his lips quickly and nodded.

"Yeah…yeah, I did."

"Do…do you still…?"

"Not in the past couple of months," said Garfield. "Probably stopped when I started boxing."

"How would have it been better for you?" asked Tim.

"If you had done that?" asked Garfield.

"Yeah. With that same sarcastic tone too. I-I need to hear this."

"OK." Garfield cleared his throat. "Would it be better for me to have to hold you in my arms while you die? Plus you'd get my clothes all bloody and ruined and that'd make me _really _mad."

"Kori wants me to take her to prom?" asked Tim out of nowhere.

"Uh…yeah."

"She told you this?"

"Well…during practice for the play one time, she was looking through a prom magazine and she said that this one dress looked good and I joked that she should get her date to pay for it. And then she told me that she would never want you to pay for something so expensive. She then made it sound like she said 'him' instead of 'Tim'."

Tim looked at Garfield. "Does that mean I should ask her?"

"Well, I suggest you do it before all those guys on the football team who want to bone her do."

* * *

Tim packed up his overnight bag. 

"I'm really sorry, Gar," he said for what Garfield counted as the seventeenth time he had apologized for his earlier behaviour.

"Tim…stop. You're like a broken record," said Garfield. "Look…you contemplated suicide for all of maybe one minute. I did it for a couple of years."

Giving a sigh, Tim fell onto the couch. "It's just…how do I get them out?"

"The thoughts? You won't. Well, that's not true. I've found that if I get really sad or depressed…the thoughts do come back-but if you don't focus on them-instead focus on the good then things will be all right."

"Why did you want to kill yourself?" asked Tim.

Garfield inhaled. "Uh…you know, Tim, that was-that was before I met you and the others."

"Did…did you ever come close?"

"I'm not going to answer that, Tim."

"Why not?" Tim asked.

"Because…that was a painful part of my life. Just when I thought things would get better-they wouldn't."

"OK," said Tim. "I'll stop." He picked up his bags. "I'll see you tomorrow at the gym."

Just as Tim opened the door, Garfield called his name.

"Tim. Listen, I'm no shrink…but if you ever need to talk or if…you just feel depressed and you feel…really bad, call me. And I mean that. It can be 4 in the morning, do it."

Tim nodded. "I will, Garfield." He stopped himself from moving. "I-uh-I want you to know that…if I hurt you…I'm really sorry."

Garfield waved it off. "Nah, Tim. Look, I've been hurt a _lot_ worse by people who said they liked me. At least you had the sense to see the error of your ways and stopped instead of saying that it's fun."

As soon as Tim was gone, Garfield counted to twenty before picking up the phone and calling Bruce.

"Hello?" answered Bruce.

"Bruce, it's Garfield. Tim's on his way home."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Listen, Bruce," said Garfield, "I know this is going to be hard to understand but you can't say anything to Tim."

"What's the matter?"

"W-when he gets home…just keep an eye on him. Don't overprotect him, just…keep him safe and make sure he's happy."

Garfield could hear Bruce's breathing on the other end.

"What happened to him?" asked Bruce.

"Nothing," lied Garfield. "We stayed here the entire time and did roadwork a little while ago."

The breathing could be heard again.

"You're a good person, Garfield," Bruce told him.

"Thanks. So, uh, on a lighter note…how was your date last night?"

"We had fun," said Bruce.

"Uh…look, Bruce…she really likes you and…have you ever been married?"

Bruce chuckled. "I'll answer that another time."

"OK. Bye."

* * *

Garfield woke up Monday morning to the sound of his alarm clock. At six thirty AM, he rose, showered, got dressed and went into the kitchen to have breakfast. On the kitchen table was the newspaper which Garfield's mother had brought in just as she was leaving. Upon looking at the top story, Garfield knew it was a mistake to get out of bed today. 

"The shooting near the school," he moaned. "God…"

He looked over at a clock and saw that it had just turned to seven o'clock.

_Damn Jokers_, thought Garfield as he flipped the page. _Though I should remember if the school is going to be closed or not_.

He flipped to the Opinion page and started at the top of the page where the 'Letter of the Day' was always held.

'**Boxing Story a Welcome Change'  
**_These days the most news we read about our town isn't that exciting or doesn't make you feel good about society. That all changed when Robert Stone wrote that fabulous article about the boxers at _Titans Boxing Club_. For the past few weeks, there have been stories about problems on the city__'s hockey team regarding the players and how well they get along. Those hockey players should look at Tim Drake, Victor Stone, Raven Roth, Kori Anders and pay close attention to that of Garfield Logan. His story is not only remarkable, but inspiring as his team mates say. Hopefully the Times will cover the State Championship and not the same hockey story we've read in the paper over twenty times, or heard in the newspaper or local TV for over two weeks._

"Whoa," said Garfield. "People think I'm an inspiration…kick ass!"

'**Coach Gives Thanks to Times**'  
_I would like to give my personal thanks on behalf of everyone at_ Titans Boxing Club _to Robert Stone and the people at the Jump City Times for giving our humble boxing club it__'s own fifteen minutes of fame. I look at the young men and women who come in here and I know that they are going to be great men and women one day. They inspire me as much as they inspire each other and I am so glad that many residents of Jump City came to watch these athletes train for what is going to be the biggest goal of their amateur careers. And should they lose at the State Championship, they will know that the people of them as champions in their own world.  
__Bruce Wayne  
__Head Coach, Titans Boxing Club_

"Wow," said Garfield. "This is so cool!"

Garfield ate his breakfast and quickly headed out the door. Just because the school was closed, didn't mean that he had to wait until school was normally done to go to the club.

* * *

At 8AM, the club had officially opened for the day and that was the same time Garfield walked in, got dressed and began stretching. A minute later, Kori came out of the girl's changing room and was surprised to see him. 

"Oh, Garfield."

"Hey, Kori," greeted Garfield.

"I suppose some good has come out of the Jokers bad behaviour."

"If you're talking about how the school is closed for today and tomorrow and we can use that time to train, I'd say you're right."

Kori smiled. Garfield made her feel comfortable. He was one of those guys she could be herself around. She always felt uncomfortable around strangers because sometimes she didn't know the proper dialogue. It wasn't that she had no concept of the English language, it was just that she spoke so _proper_ that her older sister-who didn't have the speaking problem she had-once referred to her way of speaking as 'robotic'. That was it for her. After that Kori rarely talked to people unless they spoke to her first and she would only answer with as little words as she could. Whenever she wanted to spend time alone, she would go onto the roof of her apartment. It was that one day that she saw Raven skipping rope and she became amazed by her. When she lived in England, Kori was excellent at skipping and was the leader of her grade school's jump rope team. She watched Raven with careful eyes, admiring her form and the way that she moved so casually. It was after three minutes that Raven turned to her and shouted from her rooftop, "Do you think I'm any good?"  
"Oh, yes!" Kori had cried back. "Truly marvellous!"

"Do you skip?"

"Yes! I do."

"Do you want to come over and join me?"

Kori's face lit up so mach that Raven probably was blinded for a second.

"Truly?"

Raven nodded. "Truly."

* * *

As Kori walked across the street to the other apartment complex, she suddenly felt a wave of emotion go through her. It wasn't fear but it was something similar. Pressure, most likely. She had seen this girl doing so well and now here she came with her own jump rope to show this girl how good she was. 

_Do not be afraid_, she thought as she crossed the street. The pressure continued to sweep through her. She closed her eyes. _Calm yourself. Peace, quiet, tranquility. Peace, quiet, tranquil-_

She felt two cold hands grab her by the shoulders and stop her in her tracks. Kori opened her eyes and found herself only centimetres from walking into the apartment complex's brick wall.

Kori turned around and saw the girl holding her by the shoulders.

"When crossing the street, it's best to have your eyes _open_," she advised.

Kori gave an embarrassed smile and laughed though she felt like a total fool.

"Forgive me," she said.

"It's fine," said the girl, "though it's not something to make a habit of."

"True. I am Kori."

"Raven."

"Curiosity abounds me," said Kori as she looked at Raven.

'_Abounds'? _thought Raven. _Did I just pick up a MENSA kid?_

"Tell me," continued Kori and then she blurted out in rapid speech, "where do you come from; what is your favourite colour; do you want to be my friend?"

Raven's face stayed the same.

"What, what and what?"

Kori repeated herself, this time much slower.

"Oh," said Raven as she opened the door to the complex and they took the elevator up to the top, "I come from…here, Jump City. My favourite colour is blue and…" she sighed, "why not? Sure."

Kori wrapped her arms around Raven and gave her a huge bear hug. "Hello, Raven," she declared.

At that point Raven was sure that she just cracked a few ribs.

"Are you off your meds?" she managed to get out.

Kori released her grasp.

* * *

Raven and Kori skipped for an hour on the rooftop. 

"You're really good," remarked Raven. Her tone actually gave the impression that she was impressed. Most of the time she just spoke with the same monotonous tone.

"Thank you," said Kori. "I was very good in England."

"You're from England?"

"Yes."

"You…have no accent."

Kori blushed. "I have decided to adopt an American accent since I am now living here. Does it sound good?"

"Yes," said Raven, "it's…very good."

"Tell me, where did you learn to skip?"

"Down at the club," answered Raven as she began to skip some more.

"A skipping club?"

Raven hesitated. "Well…we skip sometimes…but we do lots of other stuff too."

"It is an exercise club?" asked Kori.

Raven moved her head slowly from side to side as if she was trying to find the right answer. "In a way," she said slowly.

"How do I join?"

Raven stopped skipping. She walked towards Kori and said, "Flex your arms for me."

Kori put her rope down and flexed her arms.

Raven felt the muscle.

_Not bad,_ she thought. _It__'s strong…but that's what skipping does for you._

She then poked Kori's stomach and found that it was very hard.

Kori giggled because she was ticklish there.

Raven looked at her. "If you want to join this club, I should warn you, it can hurt. A lot. Even when you're not doing it, you're going to be in pain that'll make you think you're going to die and you'll want to hang me with your jump rope for introducing it to you. Do you want to come with me?"

Kori didn't know what to say. Here she was, just made a new friend and now she was offered an invitation of more socializing with a slight possibility of a near death experience and murderous rage.

"Certainly."

* * *

"Kori," called Garfield. "Are you OK?" 

Kori blinked. "Forgive me, I had what Raven would call a 'brain fluff'."

"You mean a brain fart."

"Yes," said Kori as she snapped her fingers. "That is the term."

"So, Kori…do you…ever have any dreams about…I don't know how to say this…"

Kori's eyes went wide. Had Raven told him? She quickly had to make a recovery since none of the others were here.

"I rarely have them! I don't mean to have them and please don't tell Tim or Dick!" she spat out rapidly as if the entire sentence was one long word.

Garfield was puzzled. "I-uh-was asking if you had dreams about the State Championship but…OK, seems you do and…I won't tell Tim _or _Dick."

Kori laughed and rubbed the back of her head.

_That was weird_, thought Garfield.

* * *

Everyone arrived later and then Bruce called them to gather around the ring. 

"We're in trouble," warned Victor.

Bruce walked back and forth between two horizontal corners. "I've got something important to tell all of you," he said to them. "I wouldn't do this if I felt that you didn't have the greatest chances of winning."

"Do what?" asked Dick. He was as much in the dark as everyone else except for Alfred.

Bruce smiled and sighed. "There is a boxing training camp in Miami, Florida that my father helped develop. I've remained close friends with the owner and he's agreed…to let you use it during the March break."

"Wait…do you mean-" began Tim.

"WE'RE GOING TO MIAMI!" screamed Victor.

Gasps, small talk and looks that gave no sound were emitted from the rest of the boxers.

"It's not a vacation," Bruce told them. "This is to get you in the best possible shape you can be in to win the State Championship. I want you to get used to the extreme heat so that you're used to the arena. I…I want you to have good time," he finished.

"Look, Bruce," began Raven, "I don't want to seem rude but I just can't go. My family doesn't have enough money to send me to Miami and-"

"Then it's a good thing for you that this entire trip is on me," Bruce stated.

"Where the hell do you get this money?" asked Victor. "Aw, I don't care. I'm going to FREAKIN' MIAMI!"

* * *

"You knew?" Garfield asked Sally. 

Sally nodded as she tied up her nightgown and sat down for diner. She had another late night.

"Bruce told me on our last date. He made me promise not to tell you. And if I broke that promise, I had to make you promise that you would act surprised."

"Yeah, but…Miami! I mean, it's…Miami!"

"But you aren't going for quite a while," said Sally. "You won't go until March break."

"God…" moaned Garfield. "That's going to take forever."

"Oh, by the way, some letters arrived for you today."

Letter_s_? More than one. This was new to Garfield. His mother handed him the envelopes and he couldn't recognize the return address. He pulled out the letter first, not noticing the other contents of the letter.

_Dear Mr. Garfield Logan, I read your story in the paper and it was so great to see that young people have courage that people my age could only dream of. I lost my cousin to cancer when I was much younger and when I read your story in the paper, it brought back memories of my dear cousin and how brave she was until her last day. I hope you do well in the State Championship and to make sure you stay in Jump City so that you can compete, I have placed two hundred dollars so that you can deal with those damnable medical bills. I know it won't be enough to solve your problem overnight, but I hope and pray that it can help some.  
__Sincerely,  
__Norah Shabazz_

Garfield looked inside the envelope and pulled out the two hundred dollar bills.

"Oh my, God," exclaimed Sally.

"Two hundred dollars," said Garfield as if he was mesmerized by it.

"What's in the others?" asked Sally after a few seconds of silence.

* * *

Eleven hundred dollars. 

Garfield couldn't believe it.

Within four letters was eleven hundred dollars of other people's money that they felt would be put to better use by helping pay Garfield's bill.

Most of the letters were from cancer survivors themselves or people who had lost a loved one to cancer. All of them told Garfield how they saw him as an inspiration and how they would root for him when it came to the State Championship.

Sally was amazed. "I…I can't believe this. Eleven hundred dollars in _four days_."

Garfield got up from the table. "Yeah, but, Mom, that's it. There isn't going to be any more letters coming filled with money. Pennies aren't going to just fall from heaven."

"But still, Garfield. Doesn't it warm your heart to know that people out there care about you and how well they want you to do."

Garfield smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that does feel nice. Only problem is they'll probably lynch me if I lose."

* * *

More letters came over the next few days. 

From doctors, teachers, lawyers and even some who remained anonymous. After receiving another twenty thousand dollars, everything was right again.

"We have enough," smiled Sally.

"But what if more keeps coming?"

* * *

Two days later, a letter appeared in the Comment section of the _Jump City Times._

'**Boxer Gives Thanks for Donations**'  
**Over the past few days, I have received an unsubstantiated amount of money from the fine citizens of Jump City who read about my story and decided to help in any way they can. They sent my mother and I money which has allowed of to pay off our medical expenses. To those who have sent me money, I thank you and will be forever grateful for your gratitude.  
****To those who are thinking of still sending me money, please don't. We have enough for our purposes and will return any money that is sent to us.  
****Thank you  
****Garfield Logan**

* * *

March break had finally arrived. Teachers were kind enough to assign little or no homework . All throughout the day, Garfield Logan sat in his desk with a bouncing knee-aside from Drama class since there were no desks in that classroom. 

The leg kept bouncing up and down.

He had good reason to be excited. As soon as he was done school today he was going to go home, make a quick goodbye to his mom and then Dick and the others would pick him up. He could see the excitement in his friends as they sat with him in class but it was most evident with Garfield.

_He's like a little kid on Christmas Eve_, thought Raven.

As soon as the final bell rang for the day, Garfield dashed out of school. Normally he would have gotten a ride from one of his friends but today he ran through the streets of the school. His backpack was in his locker and all that was in his hand was his notebook. He wanted to write down every memory he would soon get of the airplane ride and of Miami. Spring was coming soon and he hoped that the weather would be enjoyable when he came back. Everywhere Garfield or one of the others went, someone would go up to them and ask them if they were the one from the paper. Almost everybody recognized Garfield and they almost idolized him like he had already won.

* * *

As soon as he was in his apartment he quickly went through his bags to make sure he had everything: Handwraps, workout clothes, casual and weather appropriate clothing, bathing suits, beach towel, money, camera and everything else he would need. He was going to bring only two books and they were just for in the airplane. Sally had come home early from work to see Garfield off. 

"I want you to have fun while you're there," she told him as he checked over his bags.

"All work and no play," mumbled Garfield.

"But don't get distracted from your training."

"All play and no work…"

"I don't want you getting into trouble."

"Jail's no fun…"

"I don't want you to be having sex with any of the girls also there on Spring break."

"Don't be a fool, wrap your-MOM!"

"What?"

"Don't advise me on sex. It's…weird."

Sally frowned.

"Why?"

"You're my _mom_! Would you like to hear Grandma talking to you about sex?"

"We did when I was younger."

There was a buzz at the intercom. Garfield closed his bags and put them in his hand.

"I have to go, Mom," he said as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Behave," she called to him as he went out the door. "And don't forget sunscreen!"

"I won't," he shouted.

* * *

The drive to the airport was full of tension. 

Miami was on all their minds. Hot weather, beautiful women, wonderful training areas.

"Oh, wait," said Tim. He turned on the car's CD player and once again-like the drive to Steel City-Will Smith's _Miami _began to fill the air.

"Now we _really_ going,' crowed Victor. "When we get to Miami, I'm gonna get my soul and my spirit on! I'm gonna-oh, I can't wait! Come on, Dick, let's get going!"

Garfield laughed at his friend's excitement because it reminded him so much of his own. He was ready to just run all the way to the airport, run through the terminal, and into the seat with all of security behind him.

Ten minutes later, they arrived where Kori and Raven were waiting. Raven's father had dropped them off and while Kori looked excited, Raven seemed to act like it was any other day.

"Our flight is delayed," she announced.

The boys groaned. "That blows," declared Victor. "How long we gotta wait?"

"Until nine o'clock," replied Kori. "However, I'm certain that time will pass very quickly."

It didn't.

* * *

Victor shadowboxed in the terminal. Garfield read, thinking about how he should have brought more books. Tim was reading from an entertainment magazine that was placed on Kori's lap while she read it as well. Raven quietly meditated in her chair. And all Dick did was just walk. He wasn't one to just sit still for a couple of hours and do nothing. 

At 8PM, they decided to get dinner at a Burger King since they didn't want to spend five dollars on a small bag of peanuts on the airplane.

"By the time we get to Miami it'll be about…three hours behind our local time."

"Which means that our internal clocks will be off balance?" asked Raven.

"Right," said Dick. "I honestly think it'd be best if we just went to sleep when we got there."

"Haven't gone to bed at nine since I was a kid," mumbled Victor.

"Actually, Bruce told me that the training camp is a half hour away from the camp so we'll get there at around nine thirty-give or take us the time it takes to get out of the Miami airport. So by the time we get to the training camp, actually get settled in, it should be after ten, possibly almost eleven."

"Best we get to sleep quickly," advised Dick. "We're getting up at six and by six thirty we'll be doing roadwork on the beach."

* * *

Boarding for Flight 116 began at 9:04PM. Garfield took a seat next to Raven, Kori sat next to Tim and Dick and Victor sat together. 

Garfield looked out the window and down at the runway. He made a little squeal of excitement.

"Take it easy," advised Raven with a smile. "We haven't taken off yet and already you're excited."

"Aren't you?" he asked.

Raven smiled. "Well…I mean-I'm excited but you're looking out the window and you're squealing like a schoolgirl."

"I made a schoolgirl squeal?"

"You did."

"I don't know, it sounded more like a pig."

Raven laughed.

Garfield looked out the window again. From his window seat he could also see the left wing of the airplane. As the plane started to take off, Garfield contemplated telling Raven that he saw a gremlin on the wing. As he turned to her, he saw that she was reading a book that had a cartoon on the cover.

"What is that?" he asked as he adjusted his head to get a look at the cover.

Raven turned the book towards him.

"_Fighting Spirit_," read Garfield. "Oh, look, he's a boxer. Sorta looks like me too."

There was a chime and the voice of the pilot came on. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are about to take off. Secure all items, remain in your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

Garfield put his hands on his knees as the plane began to rumble and then take off. Having been an avid fan of the TV show _Lost_, Garfield suddenly became a bit overwhelmed and began humming to calm himself.

After what seemed like an eternity, the fasten seatbelts sign was turned off and Garfield got back to looking at Raven's book.

"It's not a book," she explained as she opened the pages to him. "It's an anime."

Sure enough, all of the characters had big eyes and pointy noses. It had been translated in English.

"So what's it about?" asked Garfield.

Raven smiled. "Well some online writer told me about it. His name was…Javer or something-"

"Javer?"

"Hey, it's his penname. He's really smart."

"OK, go on."

"Anyway, he showed it to me and I ordered these online. So the main character, Ippo, is a shy kid and he gets beat up a lot and then this boxer saves him and he gets inspired to be a boxer. It's really good."

"It really sounds like an autobiography."

Victor got up from his seat behind them and snatched the book.

"May I?"

"Actually, I was-"

"Thanks, Rae."

Victor began breezing through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

"A-ha," he exclaimed. "See, I found it!"

"Found what?" asked Raven as she took the book back.

"That," said Victor as he pointed to a panel on a page.

"Who?" asked Raven.

"That character," said Victor.

"Miyata?"

"Yeah, another typical Japanese story. You got your awkward weird guy like Gar who comes in and wants to box but lo and behold, some prettier tougher dude is there and then the weird dude will probably beat up pretty boy who's got a huge stick up his butt or something. He's all like, 'Oh, boxing is in my blood and blah, blah, blah,' and then it's this whole thing about getting better than each other until the final story where they meet each other and something tells me it'll be a draw and they become good friends and live happily ever after."

"That's your only beef against it?" asked Raven. "Because it has a handsome character?"

"Oh, come on, Rae," whined Victor. "This has it, Yu-Gi-Oh has it and chances are a billion other of these magmas-"

"Mangas," corrected Garfield.

"Whatever-have the same type of character."

Raven's lips formed a thin smile. "You watch Yu-Gi-Oh?"

Victor's face dropped.

"Shut up," he said as he dropped down in his seat.

* * *

During the flight, Garfield had gotten out his notebook and began jotting observations down. He was certain that this whole trip to Miami would make an excellent piece for creative writing or if he ever wanted to remember it. 

The plane landed three hours later. It took about ten minutes to reclaim luggage, go to the bathroom, and stop on the side of the road because Victor had to throw up due to a sudden case of motion sickness that everyone but him found slightly amusing. And then another twenty to get to the training camp. It was dark but the city seemed alive.

The teens, however, were too tired to care.

"We better get some R&R during this trip," said Victor as he got out of the car and stretched.

"You will," yawned Dick. The training camp looked like any regular boxing gym and felt like one too. No air conditioning, sweat in the air. The only thing different was that there were rooms close by. Each room had four beds.

"All right," said Garfield. "Me and the girls can take one room and you guys can have a sausage fest."

Kori giggled and Tim punched him on the arm.

"You guys get settled in," said Dick. "I'm just gonna call home and let the boss know we made it OK."

"Raven, I should let you know that pyjamas are optional with me," said Garfield.

"Get settled in rooms that are gender appropriate," said Dick sternly.

"Sorry, Bruce," said Tim and everyone laughed.

* * *

The temperature in Miami was unbearable for the four males as they tried to sleep. 

"I hate this weather," groaned Victor as he lay atop the sheets in wife beater and boxers.

Garfield smiled though none would see it in the scarcely lit room.

"It's no too bad," he remarked. "I just can't wait for tomorrow. Man, I'm gonna feel like a pro."

"Either that or like a dying man," said Dick.

"Oh, I know what that sounds like," Garfield reminded him. "So, trust me, all that's left is for me to feel like a pro."

* * *

An hour later everyone had fallen asleep aside from Tim. He hadn't bothered Garfield with his still recurring nightmares and he didn't want to tell Bruce or anyone else. Though he wanted to be able to trust Garfield, how bad would his problem get before he told someone else and then he finds himself in a psych ward. 

Tim slipped out of bed and walked through the gym towards the back door. He opened it quietly and slipped onto the sandy beach, not knowing if he was stepping anywhere safe.

He could hear sounds that beckoned to him. An ocean that invited him for a late night swim.

_What do you want, Tim?_ he asked himself.

"Are you having trouble sleeping?" a voice behind him asked.

Tim turned around and saw Kori standing at the exit door, wearing a pink tank top with pink pyjama pants.

He nodded. "A bit." He walked towards the exit. "I-I think I'll try and get some sleep."

"Is something troubling you?" Kori asked as she closed the door.

"No," Tim lied. He didn't want to tell her. Kori was the last person he wanted to hurl his emotional troubles upon.

"Kori," he asked her, "do you believe each and everyone of us carry some deep dark secret?" Even though he wasn't going to tell her, he could take little baby steps.

"Yes," she replied. "We all have one."

"You answered that pretty quick," Tim observed.

"Because it is true. There is something about our lives we do not tell another person. You have one. I have one, as does, Victor, Dick and Raven. And I would not be surprised that Garfield has one that would blow us all away."

Tim frowned. "Garfield? Why him?"

Kori moved her lips like she was trying to find the right words. "Garfield…when he first came into the club in November, Raven and I were in the Psychology class and…we believed Garfield to be severely depressed."

"But…I mean…you only knew him for a little while. Tha-that's not much info to go on."

"Yes but…Raven was worried about him."

_Kori, I have something I want to ask you…_

"Kori, I have something I want to ask you…" he started to get the topic on a lighter note.

Tim could feel his heart beating faster.

_Would you like to go to the prom with me?_

"Would you happen to know where the bathrooms are?"

Kori smiled. "They are down the hall and to your left," she pointed.

"Thanks," he smiled and quietly walked down the hall.

_Smooth…just smooth

* * *

_

The shrill alarm sliced through the dreams of the dreamers and they awoke, initially unsure of where they were. Unfamiliar settings, sights and smells tricked them at first but then the memories of last night instantly rebooted them. And then it sunk in.

"Training time," cried Dick as he hopped out of bed. "Come on, ladies! I want you out, eating, dressed and ready to run within the hour."

"It's six in the morning, you whore," moaned Tim.

Dick grabbed the sheets on Tim's bed and pulled them off like they were panties on the prom queen.

"You need motivation," said Dick followed by a hard slap on Tim's rear that made him scream and opened his eyes as wide as they could.

Hearing the screams and knowing that Dick wouldn't hesitate to do the same to them, Garfield and Victor hurried out of bed.

* * *

The boxers ate light that morning. The boys ate toast with orange juice while the girls had fruit with orange juice. It was unusually quiet around the table. All the while Garfield couldn't keep his eyes off of Raven's tank top. 

_Stop, you look like a pervert_, he thought. _Don__'t need the morning erection to be making a cameo at the breakfast table.

* * *

_

Dressed in sweatpants, t-shirts, sneakers, and a sweatband for Garfield and Kori, the boxers began jogging on the beach.

"We're gonna go longer than ever," called Dick as he lead the way. "And if you fall behind, I'll still make you finish it!"

"Man," groaned Victor, "when did you turn into Bruce?"  
"This is motivation," analyzed Garfield. "He's acting so rough because Bruce isn't here to do it for him. He's doing this so we can prove to him that we're the best."

But soon the boxers found themselves lagging. The speed they contained on the streets was vanishing quickly in the sand.

"Jog on spot," called Dick.

The boxers stopped but continued to jog on the spot.

"You're probably wondering why you're moving so slow," said Dick as he jogged around them, tantalizing with the fact that he could do what they couldn't. "It's not because you suck; it's because of the way your feet are moving. You're running with all of your foot on the ground when you should be only using to tops of your toes to run."

"Like a ballerina?" asked Kori.

Dick snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"You got it."

For the next two hours, Garfield could see that he was keeping up with the others as they kept up with Dick and at times, surpassed him.

After two hours, they finally encountered a group of bikini babes who wanted to get an early morning tan.

"'Morning, ladies," greeted Dick.

One of them smiled and waved at him with her fingers.

Dick winked at her.

"Yeah, checking out the grade-A Hawaiian snatch," Dick said as he turned his head back towards the guys.

"You're a pervert," Raven told him.

"I thought Dick had a girlfriend," Garfield said to Tim and Victor.

"So?" they both responded.

"Sometimes you get tired of the same thing," explained Victor, "no matter how good it is. Just because I like steak, doesn't mean I want to eat a steak every day, every hour."

"He and Barbra have a good relationship," said Tim. "Plus, Dick always checks out and flirts with other women but he doesn't go and have sex with them."

Garfield shrugged. "Uh…just doesn't seem like something I'd do."

"Oh, come on, B," said Victor with dramatic flair, "you're not attached to anyone. Hell, chances are we could find you some tourist girl-we all could-and we all go back to Jump City and later realize we left our virginities either on the beach or in the training camp room."

Tim laughed. "That may be your plan but I'm saving it for the right girl."

"Saving what for the right girl?" asked Kori.

Tim gulped and tried to run away but Kori was neck and neck with him. There was no escape.

"N-nothing," he stammered.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true," disagreed Victor. Tim had fallen into the crosshairs and it would be inappropriate not to take advantage. "I'm sure there's a whole _load_ Tim has saved for the right girl."

Tim growled and turned to Victor, who in turn looked to Garfield as if he was waiting for him to make a comment.

"Uh…yeah," said Garfield. He thought for a moment. "I'm sure he'll just _come _and tell you."

Tim's face turned red as he looked back at Garfield. He then turned ahead to Raven and called out, "Raven, Garfield wants to know if you want to go to the nude beaches with him!"

* * *

After two hours of running on the beach, they returned to the training camp where all of them but Dick wanted to collapse. Instead now it was time for shadowboxing for three rounds. Them each of them would spend three rounds at a certain bag or area (Tim at one of the heavy bags, Victor at the other heavy bag, Garfield at the speed bag, Raven at the double-end bag, Kori skipping and Dick was in the ring, practicing his footwork and punching the air as if he was facing an actual opponent) and then they would switch once those three rounds were over. From his vantage point in the ring, Dick kept a close eye on everyone and would give out pointers while his ponytail danced along with him. 

"Step back a bit, Victor. Let your arms extend."

"Your hooks are a bit too tight, Tim."

"Looking good, Kori."

The frequent encouragement from the older man flattered Kori yet she still could not keep her eyes off of his adopted younger brother. Well, she could but only when it came to the one minute rest. The other three minutes for the round was all boxing.

After they had done three rounds at each station, they did skipping for five rounds. Then it was time to break for lunch and after lunch, they were allowed an hour to do whatever they wanted.

And since they were in Miami, the only logical thing to do was to swim.

Tim and Garfield wore regular bathing suits while Victor decided to be bolder and wore a black Speedo.

"You're seriously going to wear that?" asked Tim.

"Oh, hell yeah," crowed Victor. "Ladies are gonna be turning their heads all towards Cyborg!"

* * *

The beach was not as crowded as one might have assumed. Leaving towels back at the training camp, the boys charged out the back door and raced to the water. 

Garfield got a head start, diving in the water and swimming out to what was referred to as 'the wood island'. From what Dick had gathered, it was a large wooden platform in the water, held down by anchors, and people could go out to and either dive or jump from it once they swam out far enough. The boys had decided that once the girls got dressed (Tim always complained that they took too long to get dressed), they would meet them out there.

Garfield swam through the water, occasionally going underwater and swimming there, resurfacing later until he got to the 'island' and pulled himself up.

"Wow, B," remarked Victor as he got up. "Never knew you could swim so well."

"Dolphins taught me," replied Garfield as he ran a hand through his wet hair, spiking parts of it.

"Hey, Gar," said Tim as Victor helped pull him on. "How'd you do that dive? That was pretty good."

Victor smiled. "Yeah, it sure was. Can you show us how you did it?"

Seeing as how he was already wet and didn't want to sit around doing nothing while waiting for the girls, Garfield go to the edge of the island. As soon as he was about the jump, he felt a tug and he went tumbling into the water. As soon as he was under, he felt strange. It was as if the water had a new feeling on his body. He surfaced and saw Victor and Tim, standing on the island. Victor held a green cloth in his hand. Garfield instantly recognized it as his bathing suit.

"Hey, come on, you guys!" he cried.

Victor turned his head towards the coast and then smiled. He looked back at Garfield and pointed towards the shore with his thumb. "Look who's coming this way."

_Oh, no!_

Raven and Kori swam through the water with grace and elegance.

"Hey, Garfield," called Raven as she climbed atop the island.

"Are you not coming up?" asked Kori.

Victor hid the trunks behind his back.

"No," replied Garfield. "I…uh…found a warm spot."

"Oh," said Raven as she dipped her hand in the water where Garfield was. "Can I join?"

"NO! I mean…oh NO! It…just got cold and…Victor stole my bathing suit!"

Victor flashed the suit out with a huge smile.

Raven and Kori began to giggle.

"You mean, you are naked in the water?" asked Kori.

"Well, I don't normally wear underwear with my bathing suit," grumbled Garfield.

Raven sat at the edge where Garfield was and dipped her feet in. She wondered if she looked like a temptress in her black bikini.

"Well, this is interesting," she thought out loud while looking back and forth between Garfield and the horizon. "I mean…we could sell tickets, 'See the amazing naked boy'. If I had an underwater camera, I could easily blackmail you…be my slave for life."

"Come on, Rae…" pleaded Garfield.

"We could leave you out here," she continued. "We could just swim away with your suit and leave you here to be known as the crazy naked kid on the wood island. But I think your mom would freak." She looked at Kori. "How much do you want to be that he'll jump out and try to take it back?"

Her face in thought, Kori looked at Garfield.

"Fifty. We may have seen his rear before in the hospital, but I do not believe he is brave enough to go ninja in front of us."

"You mean go commando," corrected Tim.

"Guys, come on," pleaded Garfield. "This isn't funny anymore."

"Oh, all right," said Victor. He tossed the suit in the water near Garfield.

Garfield pulled his suit back on with some difficulty but eventually got it on and got back on the island. He immediately got up in Victor's face.

"You think you're funny," he said. "Well one day, I'm gonna get you back. But for now-"

Garfield's hand showed incredible strength when it was able to push Victor off the island.

"-that'll have to do," finished Garfield as Victor surfaced with a smile.

They spent as much time as they could on the island, making cannonballs, diving and all sorts of jumps until they saw Dick on the beach wave them in.

* * *

Training for the rest of the afternoon went smoothly with each fighter spending close to an hour on their footwork. 

At six, Dick decided that they had trained enough for the day. He took them out to dinner on the beach where they ate hamburgers and hot dogs.

Kori sat next to Tim and took the top bun off of her hamburger and began applying mustard while the others talked.

"Use the hot tub to relax," advised Dick. "Shouldn't be as sore afterwards."

"Is that true?" asked Raven.

Kori emptied a mustard packet on her burger.

Then another and another.

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Uh…Kori…do you think you got enough?"

Kori emptied another mustard packet onto her burger and then dropped a droplet of ketchup, replaced the top bun and placed it in her mouth.

Tim held back his gag reflex. Sure, everyone likes mustard but to a degree. Kori seemed almost ready to bathe in it.

_Kori in mustard…that's kinda hot._

"That's gross," said Garfield. "I'm sorry but…how do you _do _that?"

Kori munched her burger and swallowed it. "You find my eating habits revolting?"

"No…it's what you put on it. Do you love mustard that much?"

"Yes, it's truly delicious."

Tim stifled a laugh and then burst out laughing.

"Can I have a bite?" he asked.

Kori placed it in front of his mouth like a mother feeding her baby.

Tim took a bit and let his taste buds adjust to the food.

He chewed slowly and swallowed.

"Not bad."

* * *

The training camp had two hot tubs. The girls decided they would go into one while the boys went in the other. 

Garfield slowly eased himself in and allowed one inch of his body to get used to the temperature before submerging another inch.

Vic-in the Speedo once again-sank in and gave a throaty groan like he had just finished having sex. "Man, this feels so good."

After seeing how easily his friend had submitted himself, Garfield let himself get all the way in. He gave the same throaty groan and wasn't sure if that was natural or not.

Dick came in next. He took out the elastic band that held his ponytail together and let his long jet black hair hang out on his shoulders and the bottom of his neck.

Garfield stared at him with hidden envy. It was no wonder that Dick was always getting lucky; he had broad shoulders, huge arms, and a chest that would make any prom queen toss off her panties.

_Lucky bastard…I shouldn't have forgiven you for calling me gay!_

Garfield instantly chuckled at his childlike jealousy.

Tim came in a few minutes later and splashed water on his face.

"Think the girls are going in naked?" asked Victor.

"It's always about sex with you…" muttered Garfield.

"No, I mean those two are pretty comfortable with each other, I think they would."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "I…hope you're not thinking we do the same."

"That'd be hot," said Dick.

The three younger teens gazed over at him.

"Oh, not us," corrected Dick. "I mean, if those two were naked in a hot tub."

"Shouldn't you…pork on someone your own age?" asked Garfield with a smile.

Dick flexed his arm and rubbed the muscle. "Maybe, but still if they came onto me and said they wanted to have sex with me…yeah, I'd go for it."

Tim groaned. "Dick, Kori wouldn't go for you if you were a gift from God."

"I am a gift from God."

"Yeah, your gift is an incredibly small dick to make all guys fell better about themselves."

Dick punched Tim's arm.

"Do you think the girls have meaningful conversation like this?" asked Garfield.

* * *

"Tim didn't ask you to prom yet?" asked Raven. 

Kori shook her head.

"Well you said you ran into him last night," Raven continued. "Did he say anything?"

"He asked me where the toilets were."

Raven pounded her fist.

"That bastard."

"It is not his fault. I have gone online and found that this question can be very troubling to men. Asking a girl to the prom is something that requires bravery and guts."

"Seems Tim's lacking in that department…Gar too."

"He has not asked you."

"No…maybe I should tell him that I would like him to ask me?"

"That may work…"

"But I don't want him to feel like if he doesn't my night will be ruined."

"Boys…suck at times, yes?"

"Yes. I mean, chances are, they're over there wondering if we're naked in here or not."

"They are that perverted?"

"YES! They are."

Kori gave a cough. "Have you ever thought of…_accidentally_," she made the quotation symbol with her fingers, "barging into their rooms while they are changing?"

Raven turned her head in astonishment.

"You want to sneak a peek?" she asked.

Kori's cheeks turned red.

"Perhaps."

Raven laughed. "That's so unexpected from you. But if that happens it could start a chain reaction that would have no end. Who knows, you may see Dick's…you know…and he may approach you and be like, 'Hey, Kori…wanna see it again?'"

"That wouldn't be so bad…"

"Oh, come on. You have a thing for Tim. You just like Dick's body."

"He has a nice personality. But…I would like him to cut his hair. It feels awkward for a boy to have hair almost as long as mine."

"If you could change one thing about those four…what would it be?"

"Dick, his hair; Garfield…his smell-"

"His smell? You think he stinks?"

"He applies too much Axe to himself. It smells like he bathed in it. Victor…I would make him not talk so openly about sex; Tim…I would make him braver around me."

Raven nodded and allowed all but her face to be submerged in the water.

"God…this feels so good."

A loud groan of disgust was heard across the room.

* * *

"That's what happened," finished Dick as he put his arms out of the hot tub. 

"That's…how can you do that?" asked Garfield.

Dick shrugged. "It's not as bad as you make it out to be."

"You white boys don't know what's good for you," sighed Victor.

"And Barbra actually let you do that?" asked Tim.

Dick nodded. "Said I would have to cut my 'tail if she did it…hence why we never did it again."

"What do you think Bruce is up to?" asked Tim.

Dick laughed . "Bruce? He's probably watching old boxing videos from his youth. Or he's doing something boring like…counting tacks or…doing research. Trust me, whatever Bruce is doing, it's bound to be boring."

* * *

Bruce Wayne turned over and saw Sally Logan under the covers. He smiled and saw that his right foot was sticking out from the sheets. 

Sally sighed and kissed Bruce on the cheek.

"It's been a long time since a man has made me feel this good," she told him.

Bruce smiled. "I'm happy to contribute." He kissed her shoulder. "You know, you've just joined an exclusive club."

"Oh, really?" asked Sally. "What club is that?"

"The 'I Saw Bruce Wayne Naked Club'."

Sally giggled. What she had just done with this man, she thought would never happen. But here they were, alcohol free and naked in her bed while the children played boxing in Miami. She snuggled up to him and stroked his chest.

"How many other members are there?"

"Relax," assured Bruce. "As of…" he looked at the clock, "one hour ago, their memberships have been terminated."

"Good," she kissed.

Bruce chuckled. "A-are you cuddling?" he asked.

"No," she said. "_We_ are."

Bruce sighed, a defeated man. He could knockout anyone in the city but there was no way he was going to fight his way out of this. He put his arm around her.

"So what happens now?" he asked.

"What has to happen?"

"What do we tell our boys?"

"We tell them nothing. It's our business and it'll stay that way until we decide to tell them."

"OK," yawned Bruce.

Sally kissed him on the lips. "You go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Sally," said Bruce as he kissed her on the lips again.

It was ten seconds before Bruce broke the silence.

"Sally?" he whispered.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

Tim's eyes snapped open. 

He could hear the voice.

Despite the far away sounds of nightclubs and the waves crashing on the coast, the voice could clearly be heard. But this time…it was different.

_I'm not going crazy_, he thought as he pulled off the covers. The voice was that of a female. Quietly, he stalked through the room so not to wake up the other men. Once he got outside into the hallway, the singing could be heard closer, near the back door which lead out towards the beach.

"Underpants gnomes," Tim whispered to himself.

"Should I bring him down? Should I scream and shout?" the voice sang, "Should I speak of love? Let me feelings out? I never thought I'd come to this…what's it all about?"

Tim slid open the door and found Kori walking on the sand, wearing pink pyjamas, covered by a think pink robe which Tim guessed to be made of silk.

"Kori?" he asked.

She stopped and turned towards Tim. The full moon shone brightly on the water, reflecting it's image and making her look all the more beautiful in the boy's eyes.

"Was that you singing?" he asked.

Kori nodded. "I am sorry if I disturbed your rest." She started to move towards the door.

"No," Tim shook his head. "It was…really good. Uh…did you write that?"

Kori giggled and shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"Oh…Mariah Carrey?"

"Andrew Lloyd Webber," she corrected.  
"Oh…is he like a rapper or something?"

"That was a song from his musical Jesus Christ Superstar."

Tim snapped his fingers. "Oh, right! You're playing the hooker. For hooker, she has a very nice voice."

She giggled again. "I thank you. I hope to have it better by the time we go on stage."

Tim smiled. "I'm sure you'll do fine. I'll, uh, let you…keep singing." He turned to reach for the door when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in the back of his shoulder. The pain stabbed into him like a knife. He cried out and cursed.

Kori rushed to him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Tim gritted his teeth. "Christ," he winced. "God, that hurts like hell."

Kori turned Tim around and sat him down on the steps.

"Take off your shirt," she instructed him as she stood before him.

Tim looked up at her.

"What?"

"Your shirt. Could you please take it off?"

Tim wore only a wife beater and boxers as usual when he slept and felt a little embarrassed by being in only his underwear with his crush.

"Uh…OK."

Tim grabbed at the top from the front and slid the shirt over his back and down his arms. Now Kori was behind him.

"There may be some slight discomfort but there will be nothing to worry about," she said as she placed her hands on his back.

Tim's eyes shot open and unbelievable pain shot through his entire back. He tried to clench his mouth shut but muffled cries came out every now and then.

_You call this slight discomfort? This is-_

"God," cried Tim as Kori applied pressure.

Tim could feel his heart pounding. She grabbed his arm and began pulling on it.

"Do you have a license or something?" Tim groaned.

Kori began striking Tim's back with the sides of her hands.

"Better?" she asked.

Tim panted and moved his arms. There was no pain. In fact the massage was actually starting to feel pleasurable.

"Yeah," he answered. "Thanks."

"I welcome you. There is little my methods cannot cure."

She continued working on his back.

_Ask her_, Tim thought.

"Kori?"  
"Yes?"

"We've…been friends for a while, right?"

"That is right."

"And…neither of us would do or say anything to ruin that friendship, right?"

"That is right as well."

"Well…see…I was wondering if…you would…like to go to the p-p-prom with me?"

Kori's hands stopped moving on Tim's skin.

All of a sudden the wrapped around Tim's neck in a huge hug.

"Oh, Tim, of course. I would love to be your date for the prom!"

Tim however wasn't listening. Kori's hug was accidentally chocking him and he was starting to turn blue. He started tapping her arms to send the message. As soon as he let go Tim stood up and bent over, coughing madly and taking laboured breaths. He hadn't heard her response.

"You almost killed me," he told her.

Kori put a hand to her mouth and stared at her half naked, soon to be, date.

Tim smiled.

"Does that mean yes?"

Kori nodded and hugged him. Tim caught her and began twirling around like a madman. As soon as he stopped and put her down, Kori kissed him.

"What was that for?" he asked, a bit in shock.

"Is it not customary for the couples to kiss before the prom? The big kiss, as it is called?"

"Uh…that's _after _prom…but…it wouldn't hurt to…practice."

Fifteen minutes later Tim lay in bed, dreaming of the prom at the end of the school year, and having his and Kori's lips touch for the second time.

To Be Continued...

Well, another waiting for endless months, another chapter. Well, next chapter...Terra...Prom...and what everyone has been waiting for...the State Championships will begin.


	14. The End

First off, I would like to apologize to everyone who has waited since April for the updates. Blame, college, life, boxing, weightlifting, getting fired unjustly, fighting that, and me most of all. But I must give credit where it is due and I would like to thank my sister for wrecking my laptop which held me back for some time. But that's not all. I sort of believed in my own hype and thought I could do it in two days. I couldn't. I have let you down and I hate myself for that. Please find it in yourself to forgive me for making you wait an unforgivable amount of time. Anyway, you know I love you fans to death so please review and forgive me for what I do to Garfield in the end.

Chapter 14: The End

The voice beckoned to him yet it was fading.

Dad…

The void held it in it's never ending shadows.

I love you too, Dad…

Bruce could feel himself panicking, trying desperately to find the voice and who it belonged to.

Dad…

Bruce ran, knowing that there was no escape from the void. Suddenly he felt his body stop. A teenage boy stood before him. His left eye was swollen shut and oozed blood along with every other open cut on his face.

"Can you come pick me up?" the boy asked. "It got pretty dark…and I don't want to walk home alone."

* * *

Bruce awoke with a scream. 

The sound of emotional agony and pain awoke his lover, Sally Logan. She sat up from the pillows and saw that Bruce was sitting up, the covers covering below his naval and his hands supported his head while he muttered out loud.

She touched his back.

"Bruce, are you alright?"

"I'm so sorry, Jay," sobbed Bruce. "I'm sorry I forgot you."

She rubbed his back. "Bruce, what's the matter?"

Bruce looked over at her and lay back down on the pillows.

"When I was ten years old…my father was shot to death in front of me and my mother was killed that night also. And…I always honour the day they die. I never forget it. I always…remember it, weeks before the exact day. There's one other day…one…that I wish I could go back and re-do all over again…and I forgot it."

Sally kissed his shoulder. "What was it?"

Not saying anything, Bruce pulled off the covers and picked up his boxer briefs which were left out of the bed.

"I'll be back in a while," he said as he got dressed. "There's something I have to do."

* * *

Gotham Cemetery held many gravestones, shrines and statues. The one Bruce Wayne stood in front of was one that he couldn't bare to stare at yet he could never take his eyes off of it whenever it came into his view. 

"I'm sorry," he said to the tombstone. "I…I never thought that I would be so content in life after you left that I would forget…your special day." Bruce chuckled. "I remember…that bike I got you and how you were racing it all around the neighbourhood, zipping past the houses and letting the speed just…I never meant to forget this day. Who would know that one night of sex can affect a person's thinking so much that clear thinking just becomes secondary." He sighed and placed a rose on the grass directly in front of the gravestone which bared the name "JASON TODD WAYNE".

"Happy birthday, chum."

* * *

In the tribe of Azarath, anthropologist Arella Roth stood behind an old man with dark skin as he sat before a fire and stared deeply into the flames. 

Beside her was her guide, Professor Arnold Lawrence who had lived with the Azarath people for the past 18 months.

Arella had her notepad in her hand and was ready to write as soon as the old man started speaking and Arnold started translating.

In the tribe of Azarath there were a small group of people known as _Feticheur_. They were witches-soothsayers and almost everyone in the village had one and would go to one like people in North America went to a dentist.

At the moment Arella was being granted a personal request by the _Feticheur_ by allowing the future to be told for someone other than herself. She was instructed to bring a picture of those who's future she wanted.

The _Feticheur _tossed the first picture into the fire and began speaking.

Lawrence began translating and Arella began writing furiously in her notebook.

Raven had written to her, begging that she ask the soothsayer about her boxing friends and see if their futures could be predicted.

After five minutes, all but the last person had had their future predicted for Arella.

The photo of Garfield Logan was tossed in and burnt. The old man looked into the fire and into the smoke it produced. He mumbled something that was audible enough for Lawrence to pick up, though he didn't start translating immediately.

"Did you hear him?" Arella asked.

Lawrence nodded. "I did…but…I don't think you're going to like it."

* * *

Back in Jump City, TV station executive Harold Glick went up to his closest colleague at JCTV and placed a video on his desk. 

Gavin Peers looked up at his friend and superior and asked, "What is this?"

Glick looked pale and had slightly bloodshot eyes. He pointed down at the tape.

"That is the most disturbing thing I ever saw."

Peers looked down at the tape. "Where'd you get it from?"

"Remember that source I had, who said that he was a part of the Jokers?"

This raised the hair on the back of Peers' neck. Even though the Jokers hadn't bothered him, he still saw them and they brought fear into him like any other street gang did. He picked up the tape and looked at the label that had been taped on it.

"'Our Family Memories'? You got this from a Joker?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down! Yes, I got it from a Joker," Glick whispered. He then looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Take this to the private screening room and watch it."

Peers frowned. "Why should I watch it?"

"Do you believe evil exists in this town?"

"Not really."

"You will."

* * *

Gavin Peers exited the private screening room with the videotape in his left hand and his right hand over his stomach. He had seen many things working in news and yet what he had just seen made his stomach turn more than ever and he knew that those images would haunt his dreams for probably years on end. 

Glick came up to him.

"Well?"

Peers went back to his desk and put his head in his hands. He had seen a teenage boy get tortured by electric shocks, stripped naked, molested (though he knew some wouldn't call it that) and then painted like a piece of wood and then beaten. It was the screams that played over and over in his brain. The look of pain and absolute fear on the victim's face made him wonder how someone could survive something like that.

"What are you going to do with this?" he asked.

"I'm going to air it."

"What?" Peers nearly screamed. "You can't air this!"

"Why not?" barked Glick. "Are you scared of the truth? They didn't stop the Rodney King video from airing out of fear. We're going to air this story sometime this week. I'm going to take this to Ratner and show it to him."

* * *

Several days later, Garfield Logan took one last look at the training camp along with the rest of his team mates and then hopped into the car and drove the half hour back to the airport. 

The whole experience was a wonderful one for Garfield and he knew that everyone else felt the same way.

It was no secret to anyone now that Tim and Kori had agreed to go to prom together. And while it guaranteed almost never ending teasing from Victor, Dick and himself, it also gave him confidence to ask Raven. He would ask her either today and tomorrow, with dialogue he had memorized and had practiced in the mirror and the shower, though sometimes he would get lost in thought and end up mumbling to himself. He kept the speech he wrote in his pockets and would stealthily go over them on the way back to Jump City.

However, it seems that Miami International Airport had received a prank call days earlier about terrorists planting snakes on a plane and now security had been beefed up with more metal detectors and frisks. Dick and the girls got through with no problems and watched eagerly to see what contraband the boys had in their pockets.

Victor went first, emptying his pockets for the security guard. Loose coins and a small item were inspected.

The security picked up the unwrapped condom and held it up to Victor.

"What's this for?" he asked him sternly.

Victor-who thought that these inspections were a complete waste of time-answered, "Well, see, it's a latex object and you put it on your-"

"Enough!"

Victor shrugged. "OK…but only put it on when you're nice and hard. Besides, with all the possible terrorists around these days, shouldn't a young guy like me carry some protection?"

"Get out of here," muttered the security guard.

Tim was next. Again, he had his wallet and nothing else. He quickly moved over to the other side.

Garfield emptied his pockets, which held only his wallet and the folded 8x10 piece of paper that held his speech. However, on the side that faced up, Garfield had labeled it in capital letters, 'TOP SECRET'.

Garfield moved to pick it up but the security guard snatched it before he could get it.

He saw the two words and immediately whipped out his radio. "Briggs, this is Murtah, we may have a 355 in progress."

"Garfield," gaped Kori. "You are an Al-Qaeda?"

In a matter of seconds, three more security guards approached. All of them had their hands on their guns, ready to draw from their holsters.

"Give him a full cavity search while you're at it," called Victor.

Garfield was certain that he heard the snap of a glove and shouted, "I hate you, Victor!"

"Can you read it?" one of the security guards asked.

"'Raven,'" began the first guard loud enough for people to hear, "'we've been friends for quite a while and I would never want to harm that friendship by doing something stupid. However, I hope you find nothing stupid about me requesting the honour of being your date for the prom. I don't ask for much from you and if you give me the pleasure of your company I shall never ask for anything from you ever again.'"

Garfield's head was buried in his hands to hide his embarrassed face.

_Maybe if I say I'm a terrorist, they'll shoot me, _he thought.

The guys were holding their sides and trying their hardest not to burst out laughing and make Garfield feel more embarrassed. Raven and Kori each had stunned looks on their faces.

The security guard folded up the note and handed it back to Garfield.

"There, uh…seems to be no terrorist threat here," he said quietly. It seems that he was equally embarrassed that he almost declared a terrorist emergency over a love letter.

"No, _really_?" asked Garfield angrily. "Why don't you guard the vending machine, Top Gun? I'm pretty sure I saw somebody put a Canadian dime in there!"

* * *

Dick sat next to Garfield as they flew back. Garfield hadn't spoken a word since telling the guard off and he didn't want to talk to anyone for quite a while. 

What an embarrassment he had gone through. Raven wouldn't even look at him and he kept shooting Tim and Victor dirty looks whenever they tried to bring it up.

Right now he just wanted to jump out that window and maybe land somewhere where people didn't know him.

"Hey," Dick nudged him, "I know you're pissed right now but, it's not so bad."

Garfield grunted.

"Look, she likes you, dude. She really likes you and yet for some reason, she has a hard time letting you know that."

Is it possible she's a guy? thought Garfield

"So, here's my advice," Dick continued. "When you get home, get some distance but then ask her out carefully like Tim did. I mean, I doubt she'll give you a massage but you got to ask her, dude."

Something tapped Dick on the shoulder. He turned and saw Raven standing in the aisle-way.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked.

Dick smiled and got out of his seat and sat next to Victor, one row behind them (and listening with open ears).

"So…" began Raven.

"Heard any good jokes lately?" Garfield asked bummed.

"Only from Victor."

"Figures."

"That…piece you wrote…did you mean it?"

"…Yep."

"So…you want to go to the prom with me?"

"Yeah."

"As a friend or…as a date?"

"Door number two."

Raven sighed. "You better wear a tux."

Garfield whipped his head towards her. "You'll do it?" he asked with a glow on his face that looked like a child's on Christmas day.

Raven nodded. "And…if this works out-this _date_-then maybe we can do it more often."

* * *

Two days later, Ratner finally made a decision about the videotape he had seen earlier in the week. He looked at Glick and Peers and smiled. 

"Gentlemen," he said in his old but still commanding voice, "what you've given me is going to be monumental. This is the kind of stuff that's going to make us Gods among men."

"Great," smirked Glick. "When do we air it? Tomorrow, next week?"

Ratner shook his head. "You don't know how to market, kid. We're going to air this close to June. Now before you say anything, hear me out. These Jokers are clearly a threat to everyone but the parents are going to be so frightened when we show what happened to this kid that they'll be begging for us to tell them how to protect their kids during the summer. After we air this, every night we air a short little BS segment about keeping your kids safe. OK? Everyone good with this?"

Peers cleared his throat. "I'm just wondering…what about the kid?"

"What kid?"

"The one in the video. What if…what if he lives here and-"

Ratner waved his hand at him. "Who cares if he lives here? If he does, that works out for us. He'll contact us and then we get an exclusive interview with the punk. We'll blur out his face but we're going to show everything else."

* * *

Eight days after getting back from Miami, Raven Roth entered the gym waving a letter that she had gotten that day. 

"Another late bill?" asked Victor.

"You're so funny," Raven said sarcastically. "It's a letter from my mom. She went to an African psychic and…got him to predict our futures for the State Championship."

"Oh, yeah," said Tim. "Well, whip it out. Did you read them yet?"

"Just mine," she answered. "OK. Tim, the witch doctor says that 'you will fall asleep, on a pillow of gold with bliss."

"A pillow of gold?" asked Tim as he frowned. "I'm glad I didn't pay for this."

"Kori, all he saw was you dressed as an Amazon and…the greatest daughter paying you respect."

"The greatest daughter? My sister always said my parents liked her more…"

"Victor, the witch doctor said that your hands will flow rivers of blood, but your body will have no pain."

Victor scoffed. "Raven, you might as well call me a witch doctor because I knew that before you even opened the envelope. Are my hands going to hurt when I win? Yes. The rest of me, you ask? They won't even touch me."

"OK…Garfield…I'm not joking, you're not going to like this."

Garfield frowned. "What, what is it?"

"OK…the thing about yours is…the witch doctor saw _two_ visions. The first one was a woman turned into a statue…and stone hands that would touch you…and destroy you."

Garfield froze. "Wait…what was that first part?"

"Uh, a woman turned into a stature."

A small sad smile drew on Garfield's face. "Terra," he said quietly.

* * *

Garfield Logan was busy drying his dishes when he heard someone buzzing at the intercom. After drying his hands, he pressed the white button. 

"Hello?"

"Yo, Gar, its Vic. Let me up. I figured out what that whole fortune teller stuff means."

Garfield sighed and pressed the second white button.

"Come on up," he said.

A minute later, Victor entered Garfield's apartment.

"Where's your mom?" he asked.

"Working late."

"OK, check this out. I don't get what the first part means about some chick becoming a statue but I get the part about stone hands."

Garfield sat down on the couch. "Oh, OK. What does it mean?"

"Stone hands means the hands of a _stoner_," exclaimed Victor. "Some druggie is gonna get you hooked on crack or some stuff."

"Vic," said Garfield while trying to hold back laughter, "it's not drugs. I know who the girl who became a statue is."

Victor's eyes went wide. "Wait, you know her? And she's real?"

"Wait right here." Garfield left the living room and went into his bedroom. He came back with something in his hands that he placed on the table.

It was a small rock, which was the base for a small stature. A girl stood there, her arms down almost as if signalling for a hug. She was very pretty.

"Who is that?" asked Victor.

Garfield smiled. "That's Terra. Let me…explain."

* * *

In March of 2004, Garfield Logan walked home, a personal black rain cloud following him wherever he went. It was well past 4PM and even though school got out at 2:30 in the afternoon, Garfield was in no mood to be seen by anyone. 

In his last period gym class, the coach had informed the students that showers were now mandatory and that failure to shower would result in being marked absent for the day.

Not wanting to have straight A's and an F because the locker room made him uneasy, Garfield went through with it.

It was possibly the most humiliating experience he had had in his life. There was laughter, pointing, the constant wolf whistles, comparisons and the clichéd towel whipping.

Doesn't make sense, he thought, i_f anyone else did that to those guys, they would call the guy a fag and all that other stuff. But when _they _do it, they're the biggest heterosexuals on campus._

, he thought, ithey 

"Hypocritical…_bastards_!" spat Garfield. "Stupid jocks, heavy metal, smoker/stoner losers." At that time, being only 110 pounds and having only enough muscle just to move his body, Garfield saw that there was no alternative than to just take it like a man and then curse them out later when they weren't around. It was either that or risk-

Two large hands reached out and grabbed Garfield by the shoulders, pulling him into the alley he had just walked past.

Garfield felt himself get slammed up against a brick wall. Luckily, with his backpack over his shoulders, the impact wasn't so hard.

Three members of the football team stood before him, grinning ear to ear.

"Well, well, if it isn't Garfield Logan, hermaphrodite of the hallways," said the first one, John Roeper, the star quarterback. "He looks like a boy, talks like a boy, but when the pants come off…where's his junk?"

The other two were Lee Williams and Jack Saxon, linebackers and laughed at the bad joke.

Garfield knew the situation was only going to get ugly so he quickly tried to get out of it.

"OK, guys, you had your fun. Just let me go and-"

As he was about to turn, Roeper pushed him back against the wall.

"See, Logan, that's exactly what's wrong with you. You think that you can just leave without asking. You should ask me with respect."

Garfield was having no part in this.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I'm a football player," said Roeper seriously. "You should respect people who are out there, grasping glory."

Garfield hissed through his lips. "Sorry," he said, "but I find it hard to respect someone with an 1-14 season."

Roeper closed his fist and struck Garfield on his right cheek. Garfield was almost lifted off the ground and fell onto the pavement with a groan. He could feel himself being dragged across the alley while Roeper continued to speak.

"Now that's what I was talking about," he explained. "You're a little faggot who's hung like a hermit crab and yet you _still _don't give people the respect they deserve."

Garfield felt himself get dropped on the ground most likely behind restaurants and small stores. No regular person ever came back there because the back streets were filthy and foreboding.

"Now we're gonna have to teach you respect," warned Roeper. "Because you have to learn from your mistakes." He began kicking and stomping on Garfield while the younger boy took the abuse and shielded his head. "I'll stop only if you apologize," he threatened.

Garfield suddenly raised his hand and waved it. He looked up and with raspy breathing, motioned for Roeper to come close so he could whisper the apology.

Roeper got close and put his ear to Garfield's mouth.

As soon as Roeper punched Garfield, the smaller boy knew that he had had enough of the jock's illegitimate authority over him. With his ear close to his mouth, Garfield would now be able to extract the small amount of revenge that time and Roeper's endurance would allow. He put his hands on Roeper's head and pulled his mouth into his ear, biting as hard as his teeth would allow.

* * *

"You bit his ear?" Victor asked, astonished. 

Garfield nodded embarrassedly. "Yes," he sighed. "Wasn't the smartest move I made."

"You bit him," Victor repeated. "Man, you're like Mike Tyson, except you're white and you're not crazy."

"Moving on," said Garfield.

* * *

Roeper let out the loudest scream that his vocal cords would allow. He pushed on Garfield's body while trying his hardest not to lose the ear in the process. 

Garfield felt his skull get smashed when Saxon's boot connected with his temple and sent him down on the ground, barely conscious.

Roeper held his bleeding ear and was tearing up.

"That little bastard," he almost sobbed. He reached into a garbage bin and pulled out a long chain. "I don't care anymore," he spat. "I'll kill him!"

Saxon and Williams only looked on in approval as Roeper began to choke the life out of Garfield Logan.

Roeper sat on Garfield's back while he placed the chain around his neck like a necklace. He twisted it and began listening to Garfield die and slow and frightening death.

"Hey," someone, a woman, shouted.

Roeper continued to choke Garfield while he, Saxon and Williams looked at who had called their attention.

A girl in a bright yellow tracksuit stood before them, on the roads that people never walked. She carried a small case with her.

"Get the hell off of him," she cried.

Garfield was able to turn his head because Roeper had loosened the chain. The girl was very thin but there wasn't anything anorexic about her physique. Her blonde hair went down below her shoulders. Garfield was reminded of Uma Thurman in _Kill Bill_.

Roeper got off Garfield but still held the chain in his hand.

"Or what?" he asked. "Is Banana Girl going to call us names?"

The girls blue eyes were like ice but in that ice there was a fire. She opened the leather package and quickly pulled out a pair of nunchucks. She twirled them around easily and without a moment of thought on her face as she did it, almost as if she were a descendant of Bruce Lee.

The three jocks suddenly felt the urine almost escaping from their bodies.

"T-tho-those are illegal," warned Roeper.

The girl smiled. "I know," she replied. "But so is assault and attempted murder. So, I won't tell if you won't."

Williams and Saxon took off as quickly as they could.

Roeper began twirling the chain and moving towards the girl.

"I don't need helping taking care of some ninja dyke," he spat.

The girl smiled. She held the nunchucks with one end in her right hand and with the other end tucked under her armpit.

"Look," she said as she moved closer, "I don't want to hurt you so why don't you let-"

Roeper's chain smacked the girl on the chin.

She swung her weapon out but missed. She twirled it and then brought it back to it's original position.

Roeper smiled. "How do you like that?"

Before he could finish pronouncing the last letter of the last word in that sentence, the girl's nunchuck shot out and struck Roeper on the nose.

The girl moved close to Garfield and looked at Roeper.

"How do _you_ like that?" she asked with a smirk. She began bobbing up and down on her feet like a boxer and watched Roeper with great intensity. As soon as she saw the hand that held his chain, she snapped out her nunchuck and struck his wrist. She twirled it and held the other end down near her waist with her free hand. She feigned an attack towards his head and as he moved to defend himself, the girl stuck his shin. She twirled her weapon again and smiled at Roeper.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked.

Roeper was a proud person and couldn't stand losing to a girl. He lunged towards her only to find that she was waving the nunchuks in his face so quickly that it was impossible to get in between them.

The girl began circling Roeper as Garfield continued to watch. Just when she thought Roeper was going to make another lunge at her, she swung her weapon at his face, coming inches from his nose. She continued moving and feigned lunging at him.

Roeper backed away frightened. The girl smiled and flexed her legs quickly. She twirled the nunchucks between her hand and under her arm. Then she stood still and looked at Roeper. She then threw the nunchucks in the air.

Roeper watch the yellow weapon shoot up into the air and never noticed the girl kicking him straight in the chest and sending him into a pile of garbage. The girl looked up and caught her nunchucks. She looked over at Garfield.

"Are you OK?"

Still on his stomach, Garfield nodded and then passed out.

* * *

"Shh," the voice told him. "You're OK. Stop gritting your teeth and wake up." 

Garfield could hear water dripping and then a cold cloth go over his cheeks, forehead and then over his bare chest.

_This is very comfortable, _thought Garfield._ I should-wait a minute, bare chest?_

Garfield's eyes opened and saw the girl dabbing his chest with a blue washcloth. A small dark bruise was forming on her cheek.

He groaned and tried to sit up, but the girl's hands came onto his shoulders and pushed him down.

"Have to-" started Garfield.

"You have to do nothing but relax," said the girl. She dabbed the washcloth over his stomach now. "I don't know what you did to make that guy so mad but he certainly did a number on you. I had to carry you here with that backpack of yours, which weighs a ton by the way, to my house and then you started mumbling some stuff and…I'm sorry." She sat down on the bed next to Garfield and looked at him. "I'm Terra."

"I'm Garfield," he introduced. "Um…this may be a dumb question but…why'd you take my shirt off?"

"As I said, that guy did a real number on you. You've got a lot of bruises around your chest and stomach."

Garfield chuckled. "I'm not the only one with bruises," he said rubbing his chin.

Terra touched the bruise. "Oh, this? That little pansy was lucky I just kicked him lightly. If he hurt me more, my shoe would have gone through his stomach."

"Oh. Uh…what is it that you do, exactly?"

"Turn over," said Terra, "I want to get a look at your back."

Garfield turned over slowly, hissing as the small movement ached his body.

"I do Kung Fu," explained Terra, "and yoga. That and I jog about a mile a day and-I'm sorry but can I pop this zit?"

Though she couldn't see it, Garfield's eyes went wide.

"What?"

"You have a zit on your back. It's in one of those hard-to-reach places so I was just wondering if I could pop it for you?"

Garfield buried his head in the pillow and muttered something.

"What was that?" asked Terra as she dabbed a scrape.

Garfield lifted his head. "I said that everybody can't help but find something wrong with my body."

"Look, guys get zits. On their faces on their backs and I heard a rumor that one guy had whole colony on his butt. One zit on an otherwise flawless back isn't something to be down about."

"Yeah but guys make fun of other guys for having bacne most of the time."

"Yeah but if you got just one zit-and it's tiny-then it doesn't really count."

"True but when you-OW!!!" Garfield felt a sharp pinch followed quickly by the washcloth on the blemish.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" she asked.

Garfield got up slowly. "Can I have my shirt back?"

The shirt was folded on the floor. Garfield quickly put it on.

"Uh…how do I get home?" he asked.

Terra handed him his wallet. "I went through it and found your address. Just cut through the park in the backyard and that leads to your street."

"Oh. I…didn't realize I was so close to home."

"Yeah. Anyway, I'll see you out."

Terra's house was a nice one but despite all that was in it, it seemed empty.

As Garfield stood at the backdoor he looked at Terra.

"Hey, uh…thanks for saving me."

Terra smiled. "Gives me something to write about in my diary."

"Um…would you like to…hang out sometime?"

Terra raised an eyebrow.

"As…?"

"Friends," Garfield quickly blurted. As much as he would have liked a girlfriend, he was willing to possibly work up the ladder.

* * *

"And that's how it started," explained Garfield. "Terra was home-schooled and when that was done, her parents would go out and do night school, leaving her alone and then it was off to Kung Fu and then back home for whatever. And we did everything together, Vic." 

"_Everything_?" asked Victor as he raised his eyebrows.

"Not that _everything_! We hung out and…she would always patch me up after I ran into trouble. Though those 3 football players never bugged me again, there were plenty of other suitors."

* * *

Terra pressed the icepack over Garfield's left eye. 

"You know, Gar, for such a smart guy, you say an awful lot of dumb things," she lectured.

"Sorry," winced Garfield, "but I got no muscle on my body and the only thing I choose to fight back with is my mouth."

Terra sat next to him at the kitchen table. "What does your mom think of this?"

Garfield sighed. "She's busy working for that law firm and…I don't tell her."

Terra sighed. "OK, Gar, those punks aren't going to change, and constantly getting bruises and welts on your body isn't going to deter them either. It's time you fight back. If they're not going to change, you are!"

Garfield smiled. "OK…how do I do that?"

"First, you have to stop eating vegetarian food."

Garfield's face dropped. "But I like vegetarian food," he pouted.

Terra went to the fridge and pulled out a plate. Before Garfield could get a peek at what it was, Terra popped it into the microwave. A minute later, Terra pulled out a reheated leftover steak and placed it in front of Garfield with a fork and a steak knife beside the plate.

"Eat it," she commanded.

Garfield looked at the plate and back at Terra.

"No, it's ugly."

"_Eat it_!"

"Yes, ma'am," he quickly gulped. He knew that a girl who knew Kung Fu wasn't one to get angry.

Garfield cut himself a small piece and looked at it hesitantly. Slowly he placed it into his mouth. The minute it touched his tongue and taste buds, sensations sprang from his mouth. The meat was so tender and so juicy that Garfield was moving the meat around his mouth and chewing like a piece of gum.

It was addictive!

Five minutes later, the steak was gone.

"Meat is my friend," he told Terra. "Now…what can I do to fight back with my body?"

* * *

"That's when training began," Garfield continued. "We went running, did lots of yoga and pushups. It was close to the end of the school year that I worked up the courage to ask her out. I just wanted to have _one date_ before I moved. Of course…I hadn't told her I was going to move."

* * *

One Friday night after their workouts, Garfield paced back and forth between Terra's backyard and the park. He took a deep breath and knocked on the backdoor, which he had recently exited. 

Terra came to the back door and seemed surprised to see him.

"Hi," said Garfield.

"Hi," said Terra.

Garfield smiled broadly. His backpack was by his feet and his hands were behind his back.

Hearts were popping up behind him; for the moment, all he could do was grin stupidly as a big drop of sweat appeared on his temple. He still hadn't said a word. After a rather tense silence, Terra found the words and plastered a smile on her face.

"OK, well…" she said, waving goodbye, "nice talking to you."

Just as she closed the door Garfield whipped out a large, lumpy, badly wrapped package that shimmered in the moonlight.

"I kinda made you something," he explained.

Terra took the parcel. "You did?"

Garfield laughed. "Went a little crazy with the glue gun."

Terra unwrapped the package to reveal a brilliantly made heart-shaped box. She flipped the lid open, finding it to be hinged on the heart's upper lobes. She could see her reflection in a mirror set on its inner surface. A small gasp was followed by a warm smile across her face.

"Garfield…I don't know what to say," she said.

"You could say 'yes', 'cause I'm about to ask you on a date."

"Oh…wow."

"So…want to do anything tonight?" Everything was going so smoothly. The words were flowing out of Garfield's mouth and the wavering nervousness in his voice wasn't that great.

"Tonight…I'm sorry, Garfield…I just can't."

"But-"

Terra had already turned back to her house. "I just can't."

Garfield watched the door close and then the porch light switched off.

"Um…OK…maybe some other time?" He hung his head and let the reality sink in. He grabbed his ears and could feel a vein throbbing above one eye.

"You idiot!" he shouted to himself.

* * *

Garfield's mother was working overtime, which gave the teen the silence he needed to berate himself. He looked himself in his mirror with anger towards the person looking back at him. 

"How could you mess that up? All you had to do was knock on the door and say…"

Garfield clamped his eyes shut and pictured himself more muscular than he desired.

"Yo, Terra. You, me, movies, Friday?"

Garfield shook his head. He was far too well educated to stop using verbs. There could have been the old fashioned approach.

In Garfield's mind, he was now a debonair Frenchman complete with the beret and rose.

"You are zee most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Not as bad as the muscle-head but if Terra saw him do that she would probably think he was acting…again.

There was always the retro look.

Garfield twirled a set of keys on his finger while dressed as a Greaser from the 1950s, leather jacket and ducktail haircut included.

"Want to go for a ride on my moped?"

Garfield groaned. What was more ridiculous, the Frenchman or the Henry Winkler wannabe? And just what was it with him and his obsession with mopeds? If Terra ever found out that he'd rather drive a Vespa than any automobile (despite being licensed), she'd think he was a freak or something.

He growled.

"Anything would've been better than giving her a stupid glue-covered box and acting like a total goober!" The emotional pain starting to get too much for him, he sunk to all fours and began to sob.

His phone rang. Garfield quickly dried his eyes and composed himself so that he wouldn't sound like a blubbering baby when he answered the phone.

"Hello?" he sniffed.

"Hey," Terra said gently. "Stand up."

"What? How do you know I'm not?"

"Just stand up and look out your window."

Garfield turned around. Outside his window, in the tree in his front yard was Terra, cell-phone in hand with a smile on her face.

"How long have you been there?" asked Garfield.

"Long enough," she replied.

_I know what that means, thought Garfield. _"Well…what if I wanted to strut around nude?"

Terra giggled. "Then I would have had to have started selling tickets."

"What did you want?" asked Garfield.

"Do you want to go out tomorrow night?" Terra asked.

"Huh?" The words were almost alien to him. Surely she didn't say that, did she? No, this wasn't a dream or an illusion. This was as real as reality gets. "Yeah! I mean…uh…that's cool. But…why didn't you say yes before?"

"Well you wanted to know if I wanted to go out _tonight_. You've got to give a girl time to prepare. So, be ready by 6:30 tomorrow night."

* * *

At 6:20PM the next night, Garfield was pacing back and forth in his living room. His mother watched him as she worked away at some paperwork. 

"Look at you," Sally said. "Dressed up nicely and all set to go."

Garfield wore black jeans and a green shirt. He brushed five times and flossed twice and rinsed his mouth more than 10 times. Cologne had been carefully applied to his neck and all that was left was the waiting.

Soon Terra came up in her car and honked the horn. Gar waved goodbye to his mom and headed out.

* * *

"So, where'd you go?" asked Victor. 

"Out of town," said Garfield. "We went everywhere. Movies, arcade, mall, we got those one minute photo pictures done and we were just having so much fun that…I almost forgot to tell her I was leaving."

* * *

Garfield and Terra entered the café in a fit of giggles. 

"I don't think I can ever go to that Wal-Mart again," smiled Garfield.

"Well, that's your own fault," giggled Terra as they settled down in a booth. "I mean, you actually went up to that salesman and asked him where you could buy adult diapers and then tried to make it look like he was making fun of you."

"Well, I knew I got a rise out of him when he called security, or Elvis as you called him."

Terra slapped the table with laughter. "I know. As soon as I saw him I shouted, 'Crap, its Elvis'. I can't believe he continued to chase us even when we were out of the parking lot."

"What can I get you?" asked the waitress as she placed the menus in front of them.

"Let's get pie," suggested Garfield.

"Yeah. What kind of pie do you have?" asked Terra.

"Lemon meringue," answered the waitress.

"We'll take two," smiled Terra. "The pie here's the best," she explained.

"Have you been here before?" asked Garfield.

"A couple of times," she nodded.

The pies were brought to them.

"Dig in," instructed Terra.

With his fork, Garfield broke off a small piece and put it into his mouth. He let out a muffled yelp as he pulled the fork every so slowly from his mouth.

"This is the greatest pie in the history of pie," he said solemly.

* * *

It was around midnight when they decided to drive around aimlessly. 

"I wish we could do this forever," said Garfield. "Just drive around, no worries, no school, nothing."

"Me too," said Terra.

"Uh…look, Terra, I have something to tell you."

"Really? I do too."

"Oh. Well then…uh, why don't-why don't you go first."

"No, how bout we say them together?"

"At the same time?"

"Yeah. It's more fun that way."

"OK. On three then. One…two…THREE!"

"I'm moving away," they both said at the same time.

* * *

"Whoa," exclaimed Victor. "So…she was going too?" 

"Yep. A few days after me. Her parents were moving to Metropolis for new teaching positions and…I was coming here."

* * *

Terra had parked the car in the parking lot of a grocery store. Garfield held her and she held him while they cried. 

"I don't want to leave you," she sobbed. "You're so special to me and…I can't stand not seeing you anymore."

"I'm dead without you," Garfield wept. "I literally had nothing to live for when I met you and now…I like life again." He chuckled. "I even like _meat_ again."

Garfield looked at Terra and she looked back at him. Slowly they put their lips together and stayed their until their current position became uncomfortable.

It was 1:30AM before Garfield got home.

* * *

A day before Garfield and his mother set out to Jump City, they quickly went through their packed inventory. 

"Honey, do you know where that green hoodie of yours is?" Sally asked as she tapped up one of the boxes.

Garfield nodded. "Yeah, I-uh-lent it to Terra a month ago. We went running and…it started to rain…"

"Do you want to go over to her house and get it back?"

Garfield smiled. "No, she can have it."

* * *

That night, Garfield used his mom's cellphone to leave a message on Terra's cellphone. 

"Hey, Terra, it's Gar. Look, I know that we've said our goodbyes and exchanged emails and stuff but…I just want this to be _farewell_ instead of goodbye. We'll keep in touch even though we're gonna be far away. So, uh…I'll chat with you later. Oh, PS, enjoy the hoodie of mine you stole. You know what one I'm talking about. I better get it back in a month of I'll get the Jump City po po's on you."

* * *

As Garfield and his mother drove through town one last time, Garfield looked out the window and silently said goodbye to the town that he and Terra ran through. It was then that he saw a blonde girl running through the streets wearing a green hoodie. 

"Mom, stop the car, pull over," he said as he tapped the dashboard franticly.

Sally pulled over and Garfield dashed out of the car and pursued Terra. He called out her name and she stopped.

They hugged tightly.

"Are you here for your hoodie?" she asked while embraced.

Garfield shook his head. "You can have it."

"It keeps me warm," she said. "It reminds me of you."

Garfield whispered something into her ear. Passerbyers looked at them yet couldn't make out what he was saying to her. She smiled as the whisper went into her ear. When he finished they kissed for the last time.

"Bye," said Garfield.

"Bye," said Terra.

Garfield got back into his car. "OK, Mom, we can go."

Terra watched Garfield leave and waved to him until he was just a blip in the horizon. She smiled knowing that he would be going on to bigger and better things and continued jogging.

* * *

"So that was it?" asked Victor. 

"Yes," said Garfield. "She gave me this statue she made of herself a week before I left as a present and I always kept it in my closet."

"So when you came here, I mean I didn't know you then but, were things better?"

Garfield shook his head. "I kind of went downhill from there though. I couldn't live without her and I was getting it worse here at JC High because Richert knew me and…well he and I never did see eye to eye on anything. My life…just got bad."

"How bad?" asked Victor.

* * *

Garfield Logan screamed as he dabbed an iodine soaked cloth onto his wounds. The cut on his arm was pretty serious, not enough to need stitches but enough to worry about infection. He stuck a finger in his mouth and ran it along his gums. 

Blood was on the finger when he removed it.

He looked into the mirror and saw the person who looked back at him. A young, thin seventeen year old with red eyes that had shed tears when no one was looking.

_You're pathetic, _the reflection told him._ Look at you, you can't go anywhere without people beating the crap out of you. No wonder you don't have any friends! No wonder your father doesn't want to see you!_

Garfield screamed and flung every item off the bathroom counter. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed. 

_Crying like a little baby, _he could hear the reflection say._ Why don't you do everyone a favor and just put yourself out of your misery._

Suddenly suicide had seemed like a very good idea. Life wasn't about to get much better and if he could escape pain, maybe he could find some peace.

Garfield turned towards the tub and turned on the water so that it was hotter than usual. He went to the kitchen and retrieved a steak knife. The warm water would enlarge his veins and a few quick cuts to his wrists would have him dead before he knew it.

With the tub full, he stripped naked and slipped into the tub. His body was quivering and he was taking deep breaths.

This was it. His veins were big now and all that was left was the motion of the knife.

I'm sorry, Mom, Terra. My life was just…a box of pain and now…I'm getting out of that box. Heh, I'm boxing out of that box and into something new.

Garfield's eyes snapped open.

_It's time you fight back, _he heard Terra whisper in his ear.

Garfield looked at the veins and then at the knife. After hearing Terra's words and knowing what he was about to do, he knew she wouldn't have approved one bit.

"It's time to fight back," he said to himself. He leapt out of the tub and put his boxers back on, not bothering to dry off. He moved almost on autopilot towards the phonebook.

Karate dojos…there are three of them. Hmm…karate does _seem interesting but…_

Garfield flipped the yellow pages to 'B' and looked carefully.

Come on, there has to be a boxing gym in this town. Borders, box makers, A-HA! Boxing gym.

"_Titans Boxing Gym_," Garfield read out loud. "Not much of an ad here but…oh well."

The first thing Garfield did was pick up the phone and call his mother. After waiting five minutes on hold he was finally able to get through.

"Hi, honey, how was school?" Sally asked.

"Fine," Garfield answered quickly. "Listen, Mom, I do my homework, my chores and everything you ask of me. I want to do something with my life, Mom."

"Oh," said Sally. "What was it that you had in mind?"

"I…thought of something but I'm not quite sure if you'd approve or not."

"You're not joining a gang, Garfield Mark."

"What?"

"I'm not going to allow you to run rampant with a gang of hoodlums who call you 'G-Dawg'."

Garfield held back a chuckle. "Well thank you for keeping me safe from myself, Mom, but I was actually wondering if I could take boxing."

"Boxing? Oh…well that can be very dangerous, Garfield."

"I know, Mom, but what's life without a little danger? I mean, you're bound to take on some pretty serious cases with some Charlie Manson wannabes."

Sally sighed. "All right, Garfield. You can box. I mean, you're right: It's November and your grades are very good as always. If you want to box on your off hours, go right ahead."

"Thank you, Mom."

Garfield hung up and instantly dialed the number. There was one ring, then two, three…four?

"Come on, don't be closed," begged Garfield. "I'll give you every penny if you just teach me to be tough."

"_Titans Boxing Club_," came through the phone.

Suddenly all the bravery Garfield had vanished. What if they rejected him, what if he was too old or too out of shape for their standards, what if-

"Hello?" asked the person on the other line.

The fear left.

"Hey," began Garfield, "I was calling in regards to membership."

"OK, it's only $50 a year but you pay that after we do a trial membership for about five days that way you can see if boxing is right for you."

"Really? That's pretty cool. OK, when can I come in?"

"You can come tomorrow if you want. We're open all day but the fighters here are all high school kids."

* * *

"And the rest is history," said Garfield. 

"Whoa," sighed Victor as he ran his head over his scalp. "OK. So…why didn't you ever tell us about this Terra before? You told us you never had a girlfriend."

"Well we only had one date so-"

"And one make out session in her car," added Victor.

"We never really considered each other as…boyfriend/girlfriend. Though…it would have been nice if we did."

"But here's the thing I don't get," said Victor. "If this Terra girl is your friend, then why is it she's going to destroy you when she touches you?"

* * *

Months passed by. In that time, Bruce had gotten Garfield two more fights so he would be ready for the State Championship. The fights had been hard but worth the effort in the experience Garfield gained. He won the first one by TKO in the third round and won his first unanimous decision for the second fight. 

On May 31st, Victor, Raven and Tim entered the school's auditorium along with the school's three drama classes and the grade eight classes from the local grade schools. The stage had two large wooden thrusts coming out of it, one on the left and one on the right.

The lights dimmed and the stage was dark.

Suddenly a rhythmic guitar solo filled the air. It reminded Victor of the theme from Shaft.

A spot light shot onto the left thrust. There stood Garfield, his brown hair slicked back, dressed almost like a greaser from the 50's except he wore a white tank top. He looked at the audience and opened his mouth.

"My mind is clearer now.  
At last, all to well  
I can see where we all  
Soon will be."

He moved about the thrust, cocky, almost as if he was saying with his face, _No one else knows what's going on but me and I have to show you that._

"If you strip away  
The myth…from the man  
You will see…where we all  
Soon will be."

Garfield then ran from the thrust and leapt onto the stage. The lights onstage lit up and revealed seven pillars. In between the pillars stood a high school sophomore with long blonde hair wearing a white gown that made him look like the Messiah. Garfield got an angry look on his face and pointed at him. With all the might his voice could muster, he sang, "JESUS!!!"

* * *

Almost two hours later, Garfield Logan came out as the second last member of the cast to receive applause from the audience. The instant he was seen a thunderous boom blasted from the hands and feet of the audience, drowning out any other noise made. 

In that one moment, Garfield Logan stood there and let the applause hit him and felt more loved and appreciated than he ever had in his entire life.

People who didn't know him met up with him later and kept congratulating him. Even though he still had to do a show every night for the rest of the week, he _knew_ that this was something he was born to do for the rest of his life. He preformed the show six more times and it was better each and every time.

* * *

One June 2nd, Tim came through the door whistling a nameless tune when he saw Bruce come down the stairs. 

"You," Bruce pointed at him with a stern voice, "living room-now!"

_What the hell…?_ thought Tim.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"NOW!" Bruce repeated.

_Holy Christ, _thought Tim,_ he's really pissed about something. But I didn't do anything._

As he entered the living room, he found Dick there sitting in a chair, his arms crossed and looking greatly disappointed.

"What's going on?" Tim asked.

Dick scoffed. "Like you don't know."

"I don't," insisted Tim as he sat down in an adjacent chair.

Bruce came in with a tan envelope and a piece of paper followed by a tall thin man with a brown moustache.

"Who's this?" asked Tim.

Bruce sat down on another chair.

"This is Mr. Holden, he's my lawyer. I asked him to come over and show something to you."

Holden handed a sheet to Tim. "This was made legal less than two hours ago," he explained.

Tim looked over the paper and gasped. "S-so it's done?" he asked Bruce.

Bruce smiled and nodded. "You're officially adopted."

Holden took the paper from Tim. "Sorry it took so long but they did proper work which takes too much time. But I've known Bruce since his pro days and I wouldn't have had him wait this long if I could prevent it."

* * *

Later that night over dinner, Bruce sprang an idea to Dick and Tim. 

"How would you like to go out for dinner this Saturday to celebrate?" he asked them.

"Sure," said Tim, "I'd really like that."

"So, _little brother_," said Dick, "now that you're almost done high school, what do you have planned for next year?"

"Now that you mention it," said Bruce, "we haven't really discussed your future. What do you want to do?"

"Uh…well, Vic wants to go into radio broadcasting, Gar wants to be an actor, Kori wants-"

"Tim, I'm not asking what your friends are doing," said Bruce, "I'm asking what you want to do."

Tim looked back and forth between Dick and Bruce.

"You can't laugh," he told them.

"What is it?" asked Bruce.

"I'm not making promises," warned Dick.

"And you won't get angry," he said to Bruce only.

"I won't get angry unless it's something demeaning or below what we both think you're capable of, Tim. Now what is it?"

Tim sighed and then looked at Bruce.

"I want to be a writer."

Dick snorted and then covered his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said, "that was rude. But…I just can't picture you as a writer."

"Well I can't picture you with a degree in business yet lo and behold, somehow you managed. By the way, are you ever going to _do _anything with that degree?"

"Actually-"

"Tim, I haven't seen you write anything," Bruce stated. "Writing isn't something that you just decide to do one day and you're good at it. If you're going to do journalism, you have to know how to write a lot while still keeping the reader interested."

"I'll be right back," explained Tim. He went upstairs and came back down with three sheets of paper that he handed to Bruce.

"It's about my first fight," explained Tim. "You know, when-"

"I remember," said Bruce as he kept reading. When he finished with one page he handed it to Dick to read.

After seven minutes, Bruce put down the last sheet of paper.

"It doesn't put you in a very good light," he admitted to Tim.

Tim nodded. "I know. But non-fiction is supposed to be honest."

"Who's been helping you?"

"Garfield sort of got me started on it. Once I got the hang of it I started reading more and then I started talking to Victor's dad for advice and then my marks started going up in Writer's Craft."

Bruce sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He then looked up at Tim.

"If you're serious about this and promise to give it your all, I'll support you."

* * *

"So you applied to the U?" asked Victor to Tim as they skipped. 

"Yep," replied Tim. "Hopefully if they accept me, I'll be going."

"So now that you're adopted, are you going to keep your name?" asked Garfield as he began slinging his rope.

"What do you mean?" said Tim as he stopped for a second and resumed.

"Well, now that you're legally Bruce's son, are you going to go by the name Tim Wayne or Tim Drake?"

"I never really thought about it. I suppose…I'll keep it Drake. I mean, I have no ties with any of my dad's family and…it's who I am."

* * *

The following evening, Dick came into the living room to find Tim in front of the TV while the evening news played. 

"What're you watching this for?" asked Dick.

"They've been playing ads for weeks about how they have this big story about how kids and adults are facing a new danger. They have this footage or something but they aren't telling us what."

Bret Ratner appeared on the screen.

"And now for our top story of this evening. JCTV has received a tape which depicts a growing epidemic in our city today: The Jokers."

Tim's body went cold.

"Oh, crap," whispered Dick.

"I should warn you," continued Ratner, "that the footage we are about to show you is real, very graphic and disturbing. Viewer discretion is strongly advised."

The screen instantly cut to a young man strapped onto a table, struggling and grunting. His face was censored by pixels.

"Out of respect to the unknown victim, we have kept his identity a secret," Ratner's voiceover told the audience.

Tim froze as did Dick as they watched him being tortured. While they altered Tim's face, his screams were loud and clear.

He tried to breathe in as he watched himself but thin air came into his mouth. He stood up and had to hold himself up by the arm of the furniture.

"Dick," he wheezed as he continued to watch the screen, "I-I can't breathe."

The young man rushed over to the teen while shouting Bruce's name.

A second later, Tim passed out.

* * *

Tim was laying in bed under the covers, shivering despite the warm weather outside. 

"Should we call a doctor?" asked Dick.

Bruce took the thermometer out of Tim's mouth, looked at the temperature and shook his head.

"No. Tim's not sick, he had a panic attack." He tousled his adopted son's hair and stood up. "Seeing what happened to him on the news was like having it happen to him all over again, emotion wise."

Dick pounded his fist into his palm.

"I can't believe those creeps put that footage on the news. We have to do something-sue them!"

Bruce shook his head.

"That wouldn't do us any good, Dick. A lawsuit would reveal Tim to be the victim of the video and that would bring us unwanted attention. I've brought enough of that upon us in my lifetime. We have to deal with this in our own way."

Tim groaned in his sleep and clutched the sheets.

"Stop," he moaned, "I can't take anymore. Please, I want to go home!"

Bruce went down to Tim's level and gently shook him.

"Tim," he pleaded, "wake up. Your having a nightmare."

A small yelp was heard and Tim's eyelids burst open. He was panting heavily and sweating profusely.

"Who-what-?"

"You passed out," Bruce explained. "I'm going to bring you dinner here, but I want you spending the rest of the evening in bed relaxing."

"Y-yeah," whispered Tim.

"Dick, stay with him, I'll be right back."

* * *

At midnight, Bruce got out of bed and went downstairs to the living room. He turned on the TiVo and brought it back to the broadcast. He knew that he was bad for watching this, but it kept him up at night. Tim had just said that they hurt him really badly, only giving heavy details to the police, but Bruce wanted to see what had really happened. 

He gasped and cringed and even paused it and left the room at some points. When it was over, Bruce was glad he knew how badly they had hurt them because now he knew how badly he wanted to hurt them.

* * *

Garfield knew who was calling him at the ungodly hour of 2AM. He too had seen the evening news but decided against calling Tim, knowing that if he too had seen it, he would call him when he felt necessary. He quickly went into the living room and picked up the receiver. 

"Hello?"

"You said I could call you at any time, right?" asked Tim. "I mean, did I wake you?"

"Yeah," yawned Garfield, "but I don't care. I had a feeling you would call anyway."

"So I guess that means you saw the news tonight?"

"Yeah, I did," Garfield said quietly. "I didn't want to but…"

"I freaked out," confessed Tim. "I mean…there it was for everyone to see and even though they censored my face…it was painful to watch."

"I can understand," sympathized Garfield. "But look, you have to remember last time you had an experience this traumatic. As angry as you're going to get, you can't go after them. If you get so righteously pissed that you think you're going to go postal, go to the gym. Beat the hell out of a bag. Hell, call me and I'll come down and we'll spar until we can't take it anymore."

"They're going to keep airing it," whimpered Tim.

"Don't watch it," said Garfield. "Plain and simple."

"What if the others-"?

"Victor doesn't watch the news and I would think the girls would be doing their homework. You have to remember, Tim, the only ones who know that you were in that video are me, Bruce, Dick and you. Granted the people that also saw the video saw you but they don't know your name. It's almost as if you've got a secret identity now."

"I'm not a superhero, Gar."

"None of us are. But look at it this way, they don't know your name and the only way those people who have seen your face could identify you is if they saw you. Then you have to give them time to recall you and by the time that's done, you're gone."

"God, it's just…the memories won't go away. Do you know if they will?"

"If they're this painful and traumatic…do you want the truth?"

"Give it to me."

"No. You're going to carry this with you the rest of your life and no matter how much it pains you and makes you feel bad, you won't forget it."

"Really?"

"Hey, in 7th grade some assholes tied me up with yellow police tape. Stuff hurts when it's wire thin and being pulled against your body because it doesn't break easily. That left long red welts all up and down my body. Now even though we sued the school-cause this happened during recess and nobody, not even the teachers stopped it because they were elsewhere-and won, that pain is still there. And as much as I want to, I can't forget it. But because of that, that…was fuel for the fire inside of me that wanted to get back."

"Gar…why don't you beat those guys up who screwed you around in school? It's bound to make me feel better."

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean it'll make me any better. Only way I would fight is unless someone throws the first punch now, Tim. And that's how you should fight outside the ring."

* * *

Saturday night, Bruce, Tim and Dick all went out to the fanciest restaurant in town. Bruce ordered his favourite meal, roast pheasant with truffle risotto. Dick and Tim had steaks and ordered heavily from the dessert menu. After that, they decided they would catch a movie and then headed home. 

Bruce was watching TV when Dick and Tim came into the room with a small wrapped package for him.

"What's this?" he asked. "I thought we weren't going to give gifts."

"Well, Tim and I talked about it and we decided that this day is more about you than any of us," said Dick.

"Yeah," agreed Tim, "we're yours now. You saved us-me especially-and so we thought we'd get you something to remind you of what a good job you did."

Bruce gently tore at the wrapping paper. Inside a simple box was a framed picture of Tim and Dick standing together, smiling in the back yard.

They looked so grown up in Bruce's eyes that it was hard to believe that it was so many years ago that he brought home a young a frightened Dick Grayson and then a few years later brought home a rebellious and defiant Tim Drake. He had given them the comfort and love they needed and in return, they had become the family he always dreamed of.

He smiled at the picture and at the boys. _His _boys.

"Thank you," he said.

* * *

That night, as Bruce climbed into bed, he placed his new picture by his night table. The picture was just so perfect. It was a sign-he had done a good job raising two kids. He hadn't failed them. He may have saved them, but they ultimately saved him. 

Out of nowhere Bruce started to cry. Sometimes tears are for happiness.

His children were his legacy. Should he die tomorrow, those boys were the only thing he wanted to be remembered for.

Forget the Olympic gold, forget the lost title shots, forget Don King screwing you over, forget it all. I may have been born a boxer but my purpose was for these kids.

Tim was walking past Bruce's room when he heard the sobs. He quietly opened the door and saw Bruce holding the picture while tears dropped on the glass cover.

Deciding not to intrude, Tim downstairs where Dick was watching a movie.

"Did you have a good time today?" asked Tim.

"Yeah," answered Dick. "I mean, dinner at a nice restaurant, just us spending the day together, I had a really good time."

"Do you think Bruce did?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well…if he had a good time, why is he crying?"

Dick looked up at Tim. "When did he cry?"

"Right now. Do you think something's the matter with him?"

Dick smiled. "I know what's the matter with him: He's happy."

"Happy? What do you mean, he's been happy lots of times."

Dick shook his head. "No, that was Bruce-happy. When it's Bruce-happy, it means that it's important but not to the point where we start going on and on and praising something.Where as happy is just…well, you know what happy is."

"Well what started him on…the road to happy?"

Dick laughed. "You want my guess? Gar's mom."

"Her?"

"Oh, hell yeah, Tim. Bruce always keeps people at a distance but when he saw Sally, he could relate to her. Their both single, raising a family on her own, they have children-or in her case, a child-who participate in boxing."

"So…does this mean he's going to keep on crying?"

Dick shook his head. "No," he said as he flipped the channel. "He's crying because life is treating him good when he never thought that could happen. Sure life was good with us, but he's got a girlfriend, you're _his _son now, I've been his son for a couple of years. Heck, who knows, maybe he'll ask Sally to marry him."

Dick laughed at the thought and then stopped.

"Wait…that's almost too weird."

"Yeah," agreed Tim, "I mean, I've never had a mom and…it'd just be too weird."

* * *

The Old Junker (Or as Tim sometimes called it, The Old Bastard) was a worn out old bicycle that Bruce only used for exercise. Today, however, Tim pedaled from his house all through Jump City. With the State Championship starting in a few weeks, Tim wanted to keep his weight down and his conscious kept telling him that he would thank himself later for this exercise. The hot June weather made this the perfect day for cycling anyway. The days seemed nicer and girls were starting to wear less clothes and reveal more skin. 

Little did Tim know that as Tim cycled his way through town, he was being watched.

A car with tinted windows tailed him, staying far away to avoid his attention.

"That's him," said the one in the passenger seat.

"You sure?" asked the driver as the turned down an avenue.

"Positive," answered the passenger. "I never thought I'd see him again. But since our tape made it to the news, I think it's time we got reacquainted." He pulled out a cell-phone and dialled a number. "Harley, we're headed towards Kane street it looks like. Get set up and ready to grab him."

* * *

Elsewhere in Jump City, Garfield Logan was doing dips in his living room. 

Victor was shaving his head and face after having a nice shower.

Kori was going through a magazine to see how she would like her hair done for prom.

Raven was reading another letter from her mother.

Dick was speaking to Barbra.

Bruce was making a call to a colleague in Metropolis. He knew Tim had gone out for the afternoon and knew that he would be careful.

* * *

Tim was getting tired as he slowed down on Kane street. 

_I'll take it easy the next while, _he thought as he hung his head while the bike was still,_ and then I'll head back home._

That was when he head the scream.

Tim looked up and saw a woman having her purse being pulled out of her hands.

Though he was tired from the bike ride, Tim's adrenaline quickly compensated for any physical weakness at this moment.

"Hero time," he said out loud. He hopped off the bike and charged towards the scene of the crime.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Back off!"

The thief saw Tim and quickly turned off in the opposite direction. Tim went after him but stopped as soon as he passed the woman. She wore sunglasses and a cap that covered her blonde hair. He knew that he wouldn't come back and he knew he really didn't want to fight.

"That was easy," Tim remarked to the woman while he watched the thief run off towards the horizon.

"More than you know," said the woman.

The tone of her voice made Tim's hair stand up on end. He heard a click and then turned around to see the woman coming at him with a stun gun.

With his agility, Tim moved quickly to the side and punched the woman in the jaw. Despite the action going on, Tim suddenly knew that this had to have been set up. No one attacks people who save their purses.

Just as he was about to run back towards his bike Tim saw two people wheeling it towards him. Both of them were Jokers but the tall one with the purple suit who walked with a cane (simply for show) was the one Tim recognized from Gotham.

"Lose something, kid?" he asked.

"No," said Tim, his voice almost shaking. "Mind giving me my bike?"

"Actually, we were hoping we could talk." A grotesque smile appeared on the Joker's face.

"There is nothing to talk about," said Tim. He was guessing that the Joker didn't remember him. After all, that had happened a few months ago, there was no way that he'd remember _him _of all people.

"But we have so much to catch up on…Tim."

The woman Tim had clocked was beginning to groan.

"Come on," insisted the Joker. "Come with us and by the end of the day you'll feel like a whole new person."

The time for action was now. Tim struck the Joker in the stomach and then jumped and delivered a devastating uppercut. While the Joker was bent over, Tim put his hands on his shoulders and lifted himself up to kick the other thug in the chest. He grabbed his bike and got on, pedaling as fast as he could. He turned his bike around so that he could go back the other way. But then the Joker ran out into the road and stuck his cane in the spokes of the front wheel and Tim went over the handlebars, striking his head full force on the ground. Half conscious, he still tried to get up but the Joker put a cloth over his mouth and nose. Soon Tim was asleep.

* * *

Garfield has just finished writing an e-mail to his dad when he heard the telephone ring. He clicked 'Send' and then picked up the phone. 

"Hello?"

"Garfield, it's Bruce."

"Hey, Bruce, what's going on?"

"Have you seen Tim today?"

"Mmm…no. Why, can you find him?"

"No," said Bruce with concern. "He went out for a bike ride and that was three hours ago. He would have at least checked in or been back by now."

"OK. Tell you what, Bruce, I'll keep an eye out for him and if I see him, I'll let you know."

"Thank you, Garfield."

* * *

When Bruce hung up the phone, it instantly rang. 

_There he is, _he smiled. He picked up the receiver.

"Tim?"

"Not quite," said the voice at the other end. "But he's close by."

"Who is this?" growled Bruce.

The voice at the other end chuckled. "You can call me…Joker. And I've got something of yours. Seems a robin fell out of the nest and I'm just mending his wings."

The teasing burned Bruce's blood.

"What do you want? Let me talk to Tim!"

The Joker chuckled. "Tim's a little busy right now."

Bruce grunted. "Then how do I know you have him? How do I know you're not making this up and Tim is on his way home? For all I know he dropped his ID, you found it and decided to have a little fun."

"Go to your front door, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce began to panic all of a sudden. When the people who claimed to have your son started directing you to where they wanted you to go, things couldn't be good.

As he opened the front door, Bruce was certain that he would find someone standing there. Instead he found a white rectangular box. Bruce lifted the lid and dropped it when he saw that Tim's shirt was in the box. Pinned to the shirt was a small tag with an address.

His jaw trembling, Bruce brought the phone to his mouth.

"If you've hurt him, I swear to God that I will kill you!"

"Come to the address on the shirt in a half hour, Mr. Wayne. Come alone. If we so much as hear a police siren come near us, we'll mail you him back to you one piece at a time."

The line went dead.

Bruce put the phone back and went up to his bedroom. He went to his laptop and accessed a word document titled 'LWAT' which stood for Last Will and Testament. Something in his mind told him that there was a good chance that he would die today and he didn't want to leave Tim and Dick with nothing. He went to his oldest adopted son's room and found him reading a magazine.

"Dick," he said, "I don't have time to explain but listen carefully."

He sat up on his bed and put down the magazine. "What's going on, Bruce?"

"I have to get Tim. If you don't hear from me within the hour, call the police and tell them to get to this address," he said as he handed the piece of paper to Dick.

"Bruce, please-"

Dick was cut off when Bruce hugged him. "I know I wasn't great to you after high school and…I hope the time we've had together since has made things better. Take care of Tim," he told him.

* * *

Tim awoke and felt particularly hot. His head was throbbing and there was a smell and taste of chemicals in his nostrils and mouth. He tried to stand up but found that his feet had been bound together at the ankles by some bondage tape. His wrists were behind his back and tied with tape. Even his mouth was covered, probably to keep him from screaming and attracting unwanted attention. And what had they done with his shirt? 

"Honey, our boy's awake," called a voice.

Tim turned and saw the blonde woman he punched wearing black and red clothes.

"I'm Harley, by the way," she introduced.

Grunting, Tim pulled at his bonds.

"I wouldn't try getting away," she advised. "That'd really piss off Mister Jay."

There was a laugh and the Joker came from behind a wall. He kissed Harley on the cheek.

"Understatement of the century, my dear," he corrected. "Why don't you go see how the others are doing in the basement?"

Harley squealed and went off.

"Recognize this place?" asked Joker. "We're in the old Jump City Community Gym before they moved elsewhere."

Tim said something but the tape muffled his speech.

"Oh, do you want to say something?" Joker yanked the tape off Tim's lips.

"Why me?" growled Tim. "Why did you come after me?"

"You? Well you made quite an impression on me in Gotham City and the fact that we didn't hear about you being found dead greatly impressed me as well. Then we gave that tape to the news…I was just fascinated with you. That and we knew you wanted revenge. One of our friends told us how you chased him through a park with a broken bottle until some other kid stopped you."

"Whatever you want with me, you're not going to get it," said Tim. "How about letting me go and I'll give you a head start before I tell the police?"

Joker laughed and smacked Tim across the face.

"You miserable brat!" he spat. "Do you know the trouble I went through just to get you here? I stole the coffin, dug the hole and made all the serums. We watched you at that club for weeks-by the way, Robin doesn't sound like a great name for a fighter. All that's left to do is wait for your father to show up and then everything changes."

"B-Bruce is coming?" stammered Tim.

"That's right," replied Joker. "Daddy's coming to save his little Robin…but alas…Daddy will die…right in front of bird-boy."

"You piece of crap," snarled Tim.

"Then, little Timmy will be taken down below where a nice plot has been dug. Then, in the coffin you will go and then the hole shall be filled. But don't worry, to ensure your safety, we've installed a six foot breathing tube which will stick out of the coffin so you don't run out of air. Though you won't be too healthy after laying in your own waste for so long. Then after three days, out you come and will be given this." Joker reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a needle that was filled with a green liquid. "This will give you quite a fever and put you in a delirious state. Then more shocks and then back in the coffin. After another three days and another injection and after a quick paint job, you'll be the newest recruit to the Jokers."

Tim spat out a four letter word.

"No way will I ever join you," he screamed. "Do whatever you want to me! But even if you kill Bruce-which you'd have to be pretty lucky to do-you could never break me down to make me join you."

Joker grinned. "Then if not that," he said as he pulled out a photo, "how about this?"

Tim gasped as he looked at a photo of Kori, punching a heavy bag.

"Is she your friend? Girlfriend?" asked Joker. "Whoever she is…I shall find her…and hurt her. In fact, one of our boys, Rocco, hasn't touched a woman in years. Perhaps he and your friend can have a nice time together. And then I shall kill her, right in front of you. And if _that _doesn't work…" He pulled out another picture, this time of Garfield. "Maybe I'll kill him. Or maybe I'll bury him alive but with no air tube. You can stay close and hear him scream and cry for his mommy. Do you think he's a cry-baby? Maybe if I give him some of this," he shook the needle, "it'll be more interesting."

Tim spat in the Joker's face.

The Joker smiled. "I think we'll bring you downstairs and wait for Daddy." He moved towards Tim.

Tim could feel the sweat all over the top of his body. He knew that he had only seconds to act, but with his body immobilized he knew that he could only do one thing.

"Help!" he screamed. "Help! Please somebody HELP ME!"

"Tsk tsk tsk," scolded the Joker as he waved his finger. "I'm afraid I'll have to teach you to keep your mouth shut." Out of the many pockets on his jacket, the Joker pulled out a roll of black duct tape. He quickly tore a piece off and put it over Tim's mouth. Once that was on he picked him up in his arms, holding him secure and knowing that struggling was useless.

Tim grunted and tried to wiggle himself out but it seemed that the Joker was as strong as he was psychotic.

As they headed down the stairs, Tim could feel sweat dripping off his back.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Tim saw the coffin and began to scream and struggle. The plot made him even more terrified. He was placed in the coffin while Harley and the other thug looked in on him.

"Phew," wheezed the thug as he looked at Tim. "This kid stinks." He looked at Tim with his painted face and asked in a deranged voice, "Haven't you heard of deodorant!?"

"If you think he smells now, Rocco, wait until he gets _out_ of that," smiled the Joker. "After all, three days of laying in your own piss and waste isn't exactly attractive these days."

"Mister J," called Harley, "he's here."

_Bruce!_ Tim's mind screamed. He had to save him or stall the Jokers. There were only three of them here. An idea popped into his head.

He began making cries of pain through his gag. Though he was uncomfortable, if he got them to move his hands to the front, it may be able to help.

"Aw, what's the matter?" asked Rocco.

With his wrists tied together, he clapped his hands to attract attention to them.

"Ooh, that does look a bit uncomfortable," remarked the Joker. "Even I wouldn't want to go three days like that."

"What about Wayne?" asked Rocco.

"Harley, stay with him," ordered the Joker. "Come on, Rocco. Let's go make Daddy feel welcome."

* * *

Bruce wore black jeans and a black sweatshirt since the weather had suddenly turned gloomy and thunderclouds hovered over the city. The shirt was reminiscent of his old pro boxing days when fans wore them to honour his fighting. In the center of the shirt was a yellow ellipse with a black bat design on it. On the back of the shirt in red letters was Bruce's ring name: Batman. 

He entered the building quite cautiously. They may be psychotic but they certainly weren't to be underestimated.

"Hello?" he called. "I'm here and I'm alone, just like you asked. Now where's Tim?

"He'll be joining us shortly," said a voice that came from a stairwell on the west wall. The Joker and Rocco came from downstairs and looked at Bruce.

"Pew," sniffed the Joker. "Who does your wardrobe? I remember when kids used to wear those shirts all the time. I completely forgot that Bruce Wayne was once the famous Batman of the boxing ring. So…the bat has come to save the bird."

"Where's Robin?" growled Bruce. He mentally scolded himself for calling Tim by his ring name but the word 'bird' was still in his mind.

"Oh, he'll be joining us shortly," assured the Joker. "In the mean-time," the Joker reached into his back pocket and threw a set of handcuffs at Bruce. "Put these on."

Bruce looked at the cuffs and then up at the Joker. "You show me that Tim's alive and unhurt…and _maybe _I'll put them on."

Joker growled in frustration. "Rocco, why don't you help Mr. Wayne with his new jewellery?"

Rocco grumbled and headed towards Bruce.

Bruce measured the distance between Rocco and himself. As soon as he was close enough, Bruce's right fist shot out and struck Rocco on the forehead.

Rocco swaggered and then fell on his side.

"Let's try this again," said Bruce. "Where's Tim?"

* * *

Tim lay face down in the coffin while Harley pulled the tape off his wrists. He cried in protest because she was pulling so hard that she was tearing at his skin. 

"You know, you've bulked up a bit since I last saw you," remarked Harley as he reached for some scissors with one hand while rubbing Tim's back with the other. "Though you never thanked me for the hand job I gave you."

Tim heard a snip and felt some of the tape break.

There was a crash upstairs and Tim heard Bruce scream.

* * *

The Joker had come charging at Bruce but missed most of the jabs he threw. 

Bruce then connected a left hook to the Joker's jaw.

"If you're this mad over a little kidnapping," said the Joker as he bled from his gums, "I wonder what you were like when we got him the first time. My, my, you should have heard him scream."

That was the breaking point. Bruce rushed forward and grabbed the Joker's neck, not stopping until he slammed him into a wall.

"I guess you saw the tape on the news, then," the Joker continued to tease.

"I'll break you in two," snarled Bruce. He was ready to. No one knew he was here and all it would take was just a few quick shots to the head and with some stomping on his head, it would surely leave him brain damaged or dead.

"If you were any fun," wheezed the Joker, "you would have done that the moment you stepped in."

The Joker snapped his hand and a knife slid from out of his sleeve. He slashed across Bruce's arm and then his leg.

A rare scream of pain emptied from Bruce's mouth as he fell onto the ground, wincing and gritting his teeth. He felt a foot strike his back and Bruce was forced onto his stomach and soon felt his arms being twisted around. The cuffs were quickly fastened around his wrists.

* * *

Tim pulled at the bonds as hard as he could despite the pain he was in. 

"Harley," he heard the Joker call from upstairs, "get our boy and bring the gun."

Tim looked over his shoulder and saw Harley hold the weapon in her hand, making sure it was loaded.

"Coming right up," she hollered back. "Well, come on," she said to Tim. "Time to make you an orphan. We'll fix your hands later."

Breathing deeply, Tim pulled one final time and felt the tape snap. He heard Harley gasp and he quickly pushed himself out of the coffin and jumped on her. The fact that she was a woman didn't matter anymore. Tim bashed her face in. She didn't even scream, the first punch must have put her under. It didn't matter to him. Her nose was broke now and would probably require surgery to fix it. When he was done with that he pulled the tape from his mouth and legs.

_I still have to save Bruce, _he thought. He saw the gun by Harley's hand and hesitantly picked it up. If he had to…would he use it?

He looked down at Harley and spat.

"I forgot," said Tim, "you touch my Johnson again and you'll be lucky to leave with a broken nose."

* * *

Bruce had never felt pain like this before. He could feel the blood leaking from his body and knew that he couldn't do anything to stop the bleeding. 

"You've lost, Batman," the Joker teased sinisterly. "Robin is mine."

"Don't bet on that, ass-clown!" Tim cried from the stairway. He pointed the gun at the Joker's face.

An angry look appeared on the Joker's face.

"That's not funny," he warned. He got down to Bruce's level and held his neck in a head lock, placing his own head next to his. "Go ahead, Tim, shoot. You may hit but then again, you may miss. If you do hit my head, Daddy here will either end up deaf in one ear…or either chunks of my skull will lodge into his face. Either way, it's not going to end up well for anyone. Go on, shoot me, make us proud!"

Bruce was bleeding from his lip. He looked sad as he looked at Tim.

"Tim," he said in a defeated tone.

The teen's hands were shaking.

_I have to help him…Jesus…I have to help him, _he thought._ Please…give me some help._

Suddenly there was a crash and the door burst open. In came Dick wearing a black jacket with a blue silhouette of a bird of prey. The Joker let go of Bruce and was about to fight Dick but didn't expect for his legs to be taken out by a quick swing of Dick's right leg.

Sucking in air, Dick jumped into the air and landed on the Joker's chest and stomach, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him in great pain. He stepped off and got down to Bruce.

"Dick," cried Tim as he dropped the gun. He ran to his brother and hugged, sobbing and knowing that this ordeal was over.

"You're alright, kid," Dick consoled, "though you may wanna put on a shirt." He pulled out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and tied it around Bruce's leg.

"I thought I told you not to come," Bruce groaned.

"Yeah," said Dick, "since you were clearly doing such a fine job, I figured I'd come and watch. Don't worry, I called in backup."

"Good work," said Bruce.

Sirens could be heard approaching.

* * *

Twelve minutes later, Bruce Wayne was laying on a hospital bed, his pants off while a nurse stitched his leg. 

"You're pretty lucky," said the nurse. "If he had stabbed you there instead of just slicing, you'd probably be walking with a limp."

"I'll count my blessings," said Bruce as he looked at his stitched arm. "Do you know how my son is doing?"

* * *

Tim was given ten milligrams of Valium to help him relax and two weeks of tablets that would help him sleep. 

"In any pain?" the doctor asked as he listened to Tim's heart.

"Just my wrists," said Tim as he rubbed them, "but they'll be OK. Are you gonna be able to let us go?"

* * *

After giving their individual statements to the police, Bruce, Tim and Dick returned home. They ate dinner together and watched TV together, today's events reminding them of how precious life and family is. 

Tim sat between the two, knowing that the ordeal with the Jokers was over. Joker, Rocco and Harley had all pleaded guilty and chances are Rocco or Harley would cut a deal by ratting out other Jokers.

"Hey, uh, listen, you guys," said Tim as he looked back and forth between them. "I'm sorry…I just-"

"What's done is done," said Bruce. "The Joker gang is going to pay dearly for this."

"Yeah," agreed Dick. "And besides, if it were me who got snatched, you guys would do just the same thing."

"Oh, I'm not apologizing about that," corrected Tim. "I'm sorry about the bike. The Old Junker's probably long gone by now."

"Good," said Bruce. "I always hated that bike."

* * *

Bruce couldn't sleep. Perhaps the doctors should have given him some sleeping medication as well. Was the nightmare over for Tim and the rest of them? 

_Probably,_ Bruce told himself. But just to be sure, he got out of bed and decided to check on his boys.

_My boys. I have to get used to thinking of them that way and not just as 'my wards' or 'those two freeloaders who won't go away'._

He opened up Dick's door and found the twenty-four year old snoring away in bed. Hard to believe the son of an acrobat/karate instructor now had a degree in business from Metropolis University. The four years he spent there changed him for the better. For a while, Bruce was certain that Dick would never return to Jump City, much less speak to him again. With Jason's death and his depression, things changed when Tim entered the picture. Like all brothers, they hated each other when they first met. One was too much of a street punk and a thief and the other was too much of a prick in their eyes. It was after Tim saved Dick from drowning in the pool that the brotherhood formed and only got better. Sure they had their arguments and fights but that was to be expected. They weren't girls and weren't going to cheer each other up by painting their toenails. Bruce gave a small chuckle at the thought. They had fun fighting and sparring.

He closed the door and let his eldest son sleep.

Now onto Tim's room which had previously been Jason's. When he opened the door he found that Tim and the pillow were missing from the bed. The window was closed.

Quickly but quietly, he went down the stairs and into the living room.

Tim was fast asleep in front of the fire place, where a small but warm fire was active. Strangely enough, Tim had done the same thing for the first week he started living with Bruce. He would get up, switch on the fire place and sleep in front of the fireplace, giving no explanation as to why he did it. Bruce guessed that it was because of his prior living conditions with his father. Before living in that run down apartment, they had spent many nights on the street with a roaring fire from a garbage can the only way to keep them warm. He would let him sleep here tonight and every night if it helped him. Bruce got a quilt from off the top of the couch and put it over Tim's lower half.

"Goodnight, son."

* * *

Garfield looked himself over in the mirror. Hair was good, face was zit free, black tux with white shirt and black bow tie…very hot. A careful amount of cologne had been applied to himself. He had called Raven and she informed him that she was ready. 

Now all he had to do was wait.

Tim had said that he and Victor would pick them up. That didn't sound too comforting to Garfield. Six people in a car? Well, you had to take the good with the bad.

"Let me get a good look at you," said Sally. She kissed both his cheeks. "Make sure you take plenty of pictures, make sure you and Raven get some pictures taken together."

"I will, Mom," Garfield smiled.

"You know, your father and I met at the prom," Sally said.

"Is that a warning?" asked Garfield.

"No. Just…possibly foreshadowing."

There was a buzz at the intercom.

Garfield pushed the button.

"Yeah?"

"It's Vic, Gar! Lets go!"

Sally kissed her son one last time.

"Look, have fun; enjoy yourself; don't do drugs and stay out of trouble," she reminded him.

"Yes; yes; maybe; you don't tell me what to do."

* * *

Garfield headed downstairs and gasped when he saw the black stretch limo that was outside his complex. Victor was sticking out of the moon roof. 

"Yo, B! Check it out!"

Garfield stated laughing out the spontaneous situation. He guessed that Bruce pulled some strings. It made him wonder how much power Bruce had in Jump City.

He climbed inside and saw Tim dressed in a black tux with a white ruffled shirt, Kori in a beautiful pink dress.

Victor wore a white tux with a black shirt. Next to him was a girl Garfield had never seen before. She had blonde hair, a thin frame and a gentle face. She wore her hair different from Terra's.

"I don't think we've met," said Garfield.

"This is Sara," introduced Victor. "We've been dating for a while."

"Wait, you had a girlfriend and you didn't tell us?"

Victor blushed. "I don't like to brag."

* * *

Garfield had been called up by Raven after he buzzed her intercom. He knocked on her door and was greeted by a large man with long white hair that had been braided into a ponytail. The body was heavily built. His face was red and he was panting hard. He looked like some sort of demon or devil. 

"Are you Garfield?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," he replied, trying not to look intimidated by him.

The man smiled. "Come on in, I'm Phil Roth, Raven's dad." He extended his hand for Garfield to shake.

As his own hand went out, Garfield began sizing the man up.

_The handshake's important, _he thought_. Shake with a firm but gentle grip-don't give him a cold fish-and shake only twice._

"I'm Travis Roth," he introduced. "So you're the young man my daughter's been talking about?"

Garfield shrugged. "I hope so, otherwise I got dressed up for nothing."

Travis looked around and said carefully to Garfield, "Look you seem like a good kid so I just want to get this out of the way: No drugs, no sex. She can drink-I will allow her this-but do not let her get stumbling drunk."

Garfield nodded. The group had planned an after party at Tim's and alcohol was sure to be a factor. Though beer had never touched Garfield's lips before, he was eager to experiment.

"Don't worry, sir," he assured, "I'll make sure nothing you wouldn't want to happen happens."

Travis slapped Garfield on the shoulder.

"Attaboy," he smiled. He turned towards a hallway. "Rae, your date is here."

Raven came from the hallway in a violet blue dress that was held up with spaghetti-thin straps. Her face was full of so much colour that she looked almost like a goddess.

A woman with curly blonde hair that went down to her shoulders followed her. This had to be Raven's mother.

Garfield introduced himself, waited five minutes for pictures to be taken by Arella-Raven's mother-and then it was downstairs, into the limo and off to prom.

* * *

The Corleone Club in downtown Jump City had been reserved by the high school since December. The theme was _A Night to Remember _and everyone there made sure that would happen sooner or later. 

Once they arrived, the teens separated into their designated couples and just walked around, looking at all the decorations. Then at 7:30, it was time for dinner. Tim, Kori, Victor, Sara, Garfield and Raven sat at a circular table. The meal consisted of a pasta course, salad, then came the main course of chicken, potatoes, mixed vegetables and roast beef. Then followed dessert which consisted of a cup of vanilla ice cream. Then it was onto the dance floor. It started out fast, to get people dancing quickly in an attempt to get everyone comfortable.

Victor let go of Sara's hand at one point and started break dancing in the middle of the dance. People gathered around him and started chanting, "Go Vic-tor, go Vic-tor!"

A half hour after fast dancing, the tempo slowed down and soon couple joined together closely.

Garfield had never felt so close to Raven. Her head was on his shoulder as they danced together.

"Can I ask you two questions?" she asked.

"Yeah," whispered Garfield.

"What's the name of this song?"

Garfield swallowed. "Let me be your hero," Garfield answered. His statement more of a request than the answer to Raven's question.

"I will," she said.

"What's the second question?"

"Why are your hands so sweaty?"

* * *

Victor rubbed his hand up Sara's back behind her dress. 

"Are you upset I didn't tell my friends about you?" he asked her.

"No," she said. "I mean…that was a bad lie, because you _do_ like to brag but when it comes to sensitive issues like…relationships, you're shy."

"Yeah. You know, I'm glad that your parents were OK about you…dating a black guy. I mean, I know it isn't the 1960's but I mean…there are certain stereotypes that don't tend to go away."

"My parents know you're a good person," she said. "So…are you nervous about tonight?"

"No," he quickly answered. "I mean, do you still want to do this?"

"I do," Sara nodded as she looked at him. "I want this more than anything. Do you have protection?"

Victor gulped and nodded.

* * *

Tim had been quick through most of the dance. He wanted to say the perfect thing to Kori but couldn't find the words. 

"You smell nice," he mumbled.

"Thank you," she said. "You emit a pleasant scent as well."

"Uh, thanks," Tim smiled. "So…are you having a good time?"

"Yes, glorious," she replied.

"So, are you-"

Tim was interrupted by microphone feedback. A boy with a crew-cut was on the stage at the DJ station.

"Hey," he waved in his black tuxedo. "I'm Fang…uh and I'd like to call my girlfriend, Kitten up.

A girl in a short pink dress and blonde hair came up on stage.

"Uh, look," said Fang, "I know things haven't always been perfect between us but I wanna make that up to you." Fang then got down on one knee and pulled a ring out of one pocket.

The hall was filled with cheers since they knew what was going on-no matter how absurd it would seem anywhere else but here.

"Will you marry me?" Fang asked.

Kitten put her hands up to her mouth and nodded.

The hall erupted into a chorus of cheers.

Tim groaned.

"What is the matter?" asked Kori.

"Our prom has become a Freddie Prinze Jr. movie," Tim said as he shook his head. "A _really _bad Freddie Prinze Jr. movie."

* * *

The drive back to Tim's place was filled with chatter and laughter. The limo driver was going to wait there all night since that was part of his contract and then he would drive the girls home and the boys would go back to Tim's. 

Bruce was gone for the evening-he had allowed Tim and his friends to drink, but did not anyone getting drunk and he did not want any drinking in the house-and Dick was in his room, doing shadowboxing and other workouts.

A bonfire roared in the backyard as the teens drank, told stories and blasted music from a CD stereo.

Victor made his way over to Tim and nudged him.

"Hey, uh…is there anywhere Sara and I could so that we're…alone?"

Tim chuckled. "You're gonna get laid tonight?"

"Shh!"

"We got a couple spare bedrooms," said Tim. "If you want the farthest one, it's three doors down on the left from my room. Just leave everything how you saw it, OK? If Bruce finds out you two are having sex in his house…well he'll give me some talk about how this isn't a brothel and blame me and give you a lecture about safe sex and all that."

"I got a condom," muttered Victor. "You don't have to warn me."

* * *

Victor walked Sara into the guest bedroom and closed the door. His jaw was shaking and his heart was ready to jump into his throat. Fighting people who were your age and weighed the same and looked dangerous was one thing but sex was a whole other item in itself. It was intimacy on the highest levels. Sure, people his age had one night stands all the times. But he and Sara had been teasing each other playfully ever since they were freshman. Finally they came to the conclusion that they were meant for each other. 

Victor threw off his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt.

"You still wanna do this?" he asked.

Sara nodded. "Are you nervous?"

Victor nodded as well. "Yeah."

Sara paused. "Do you just want to make out instead?"

Victor smiled. "Yeah…yeah."

* * *

Garfield giggled as he sat next to Raven. 

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Your mom thinks we're going to get married," he said in a childish voice. "I saw that look she was giving me. She was thinking, 'At last, a young stud to take my daughter off to Milan.'"

"OK…" said Raven as she took the bottle of hard lemonade from his hand, "I think you've got a pretty good buzz right now."

"You guys realize…on the 24th…State Championship starts," reminded Tim.

"Yes," said Kori. "Are you nervous?"

"I am," said Tim. "I mean…there's always anxiety but…this is our chance to be recognized as somebody. Except for Gar; everyone knows who he is because he's in the paper."

"That doesn't mean I'll win," said Garfield. "Who knows…I may lose the first fight."

* * *

It was 2AM when they boys took the girls in the limo to drive them back home. Sara was first, Victor walked her up to the doorstep, kissed her goodnight and saw her inside her house. 

Then it was Raven. Garfield went into the complex with her and walked her to the door.

A gentleman to the last, he thought.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered with a yawn. "I don't think I could have had a better time with anyone else."

Garfield smiled.

"I'm…glad." He scratched the back of his head. "Look…do you remember on the plane back from Miami that…if this went well that we could…do it again?"

"I do remember that."

"Well…based on tonight's," he checked his watch, "…or _last _night's performance if you want to get technical…would you want to do this again?"

Raven smiled. "Yes."

Garfield put his hand behind Raven's head and brought her lips towards his and merged them. They stayed like that for a while until Raven's dad came to the door, claiming he thought he heard prowlers.

* * *

Tim and Kori couldn't keep their lips off each other. They kissed at the doorway to the complex, in the elevator and even stopped at some points in the hallway to smooch. 

"Does this mean that we are…dating?" she asked.

Tim kissed down her neck. "Only if you want it."

"I do."

Tim chuckled. "Great."

"I only hope your brother will not be jealous."

"Dick, why would he be jealous?"

"No reason," Kori answered quickly.

* * *

The three boys sat in front of the TV, watching old horror movies from the 1950's. 

"So, Victor," yawned Garfield. "Where did you and Sara go for such a long time? Did you two belly-bumpers build the beast with two backs?"

"Do I need to change the sheets in there?" asked Tim.

"We got nervous," muttered Victor.

"Huh?"

"We got nervous," Victor repeated. "Sure, we joke about sex a lot but…it's still taboo. I mean…it changes everything and if something were to go wrong with the condom…I wouldn't want to be a father at 18 and I wouldn't want to put Sara through that. I don't mean to sound like a chick but…I just don't think I'm ready yet."

* * *

Two days later on Monday, Garfield, Tim, Victor, Kori and Raven as well as the rest of their classmates in the school auditorium. They wore black gowns and graduate caps, making them look like a clichéd photograph of a graduation. 

The valedictorian speech was filled with tears only from the valedictorian. Everyone else felt they were going to cry if she kept talking. Sure, she was liked, but they wanted to get the hell out of there.

The diplomas had been handed out and now the academic awards were being disposed of.

Mrs. McHarrison, the head English teacher and Writer's Craft teacher, had the reputation of being the most beloved teacher in the school. She had a sweet voice and demeanour and was always able to control her class without shouting. Students gave her what they gave to few others: respect.

"It is my pleasure," she began, "to announce the winner of this year's Golden Pen award. An award dedicated to a student who has greatly garnered great results in the field of creative writing. Therefore it is my honour to bestow this award to Timothy Drake."

The auditorium erupted into cheers. Those who knew Tim but didn't know him well enough cheered because of the irony; boxers aren't writers.

Tim stayed seated. It took him a while to take this in. After two seconds he stood up and made his way to the stage to accept his award.

WHONK!

There was the sound of giggles from the bleachers where the sound came from.

Tim ignored it, shook hands with McHarrison, took the plaque and posed for a picture and headed back down towards his seat.

_Weird, _thought Tim as he was about to sit down_, out of thousands of sounds in this auditorium today, I know that was my dad's._

Bruce didn't mean to make such a loud noise but it was out of his control. On one side, Sally Logan smiled and patted his knee. On the other side, Dick was laughing while filming the ceremony.

* * *

On June 24th 2005, the boxers of Titans Boxing Club were in the school auditorium again, this time as participants in the 2005 State Championships. After being weighed in at 125 pounds, Garfield was given a small cellophane cup that came with an orange lid. 

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You pee in it," said Bruce.

"Now?"

"Yes."

Garfield looked around. "I-I can't do it in front of other people."

After a brief explanation that he would fill the cup in the bathroom under the watchful eye of a tournament official, Garfield seemed relaxed.

As he entered the washroom he was followed by an official in a vanilla white suit. He looked like he was in his early 20s.

"Just, uh, go over to the urinal and…you know," he said.

Still in his street clothes, Garfield unzipped his fly while the official was turned around, facing the other way.

"Look…I-I can't go if someone's watching me," Garfield said in a half whisper.

"Want me to run some water?" asked the official.

"Yeah, that'd be good."

Garfield could hear the water going from the sink and that was enough for him to relieve his bladder into the cup.

The orange cap was fitted on, it was labelled and Garfield signed a little space on the label. It would later be checked for steroids or any other foreign substances that were not allowed to be in a fighter's system.

* * *

Garfield was now in his green satin boxing shorts and his black sleeveless t-shirt, Bruce sitting in front of him as he wrapped his hands. His eyes were closed and he worked on breathing. Before every fight he was nervous to the point where he got so sick from worry that he wanted to throw up. But he knew that this was something that everybody went through. Mike Tyson used to cry before fights as an amateur. 

The black hand wraps were done, now the gloves. Short amount of pad work would be enough to get Garfield warmed up and ready for the opening rounds.

Alfred kneaded the back of Garfield's neck while the other boxers got ready in their own way after giving urine samples.

The auditorium had regular lighting and while the seats were not full there was a strong audience out this evening. Even as Garfield made his way into the ring people were cheering for him. He raised his hand to his head to salute the audience as soon as he was in the square circle. Alfred and Bruce waited on the outside of the ring.

"Wave to them," urged Alfred. "Most of them are here to see you."

Garfield raised both hands triumphantly into the sky to the cheers of the audience. He then saw his opponent, a swarthy teen who looked like he was entering the ring for a middleweight fight.

"B-Bruce, is that my opponent?" asked Garfield nervously.

The mouthpiece was inserted into Garfield's mouth.

"That's him," answered Bruce. "I was hoping you didn't get matched with him because he tends to be a bit _too _rough but…just keep ducking a lot. He's got long arms so he takes wide swings when he hooks, so when that happens, you peek-a-boo, duck and move in-left hook, right jab."

Peek-a-boo defence consisted of having the gloves close to your face just resting under your nose. It was the style trainer Cus D'Amato used to meld Mike Tyson into the destructive force he was yesteryear.

The ring announcer came into the ring with his wireless microphone in hand. He tapped it three times to make sure it was on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for three rounds. Introducing, in the blue corner, from _Titans Boxing Club_, he's wearing green trunks, he weighs one-twenty five. Undefeated in four bouts, scoring three knockouts, here is Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan!"

Despite the butterflies in his stomach, Garfield raised a fist in salute.

"In the red corner, from _East Steel City Boxing Club_, he's wearing red trunks, he weighs, 127 ½ pounds. Undefeated in 10 matches, with 8 knockouts, here is Jorge Farman!"

Farman had a face that lacked compassion or any other emotion other than. It was like a statue that held a face that was unconquerable.

_I'm fighting a Vulcan,_ thought Garfield as he made his way to hear the referees instructions. He was a tall dark man with no hair on his head and a gentle face that reminded Garfield of Bill Cosby.

Beast Boy and Jorge touched gloves and returned to their corners for last second advice.

"Exhale with every punch," said Bruce.

"Jesus walks with you Garfield," Alfred told him. "He'll protect you and together, you will conquer."

_Is he saying I should go to church more often? _Garfield wondered.

* * *

In the locker room there was a closed circuit TV which fed all the goings on in the ring. 

"That Farman is way too big to be in the same class as Gar," Victor muttered.

"Doesn't matter," said Dick. "He may be bigger but Gar's got the good footwork and the speed."

The bell was heard through the TV.

* * *

Beast Boy moved in, peek-a-boo already established. He was planning to move in early between Farman's hooks and hammer him with body and head shots. 

Farman shot out a right jab which Beast Boy easily avoided. The adrenaline was flowing through both their bodies now. More jabs shot out but he stayed in peek-a-boo and moved in towards the body. Just as Beast Boy was about to land a right hook to Farman's body, Farman's right hook slammed into Beast Boy's head, twisting his neck. Before he could react, an uppercut and left jab slammed into his face. Before he knew what was happening, Beast Boy found himself on the canvas, his head making a violent impact.

* * *

"Jesus _Christ_," shouted Victor. "Come on, you little grass-stain, get your ass up." 

"Surely he can make a comeback, can he not?" asked Kori.

Nobody answered her.

* * *

Beast Boy was deaf. All he could hear was a high pitched whistle that would only attract dogs if they were in earshot. The ref was over him counting. By the time he got to five, Beast Boy was already back on his knees. 

"Can you continue?" asked the ref.

"I'm fine," Beast Boy said through the mouthpiece. "I can beat him."

"Box," the referee commanded.

Beast Boy moved forward. He knocked away Farman's jabs and was able to land a few body shots but the ones he received were much more damaging. Just as the bell rang, a shot landed in his stomach, lifting him almost off the ground.

Hobbling back to his corner, Bruce roughly sat him on the stool.

"I can't believe this crap," he grumbled as he removed Beast Boy's mouth piece.

"Sorry-" Beast Boy began.

"It's not you," said Bruce, "it's that gargantuan. I know something's not right with him. There's no way that he's in your weight class."

"You've got to move in and out," explained Alfred he applied an enswell to the top of Garfield's eye. An enswell is a small piece of metal with a handle. It is traditionally kept on ice and is used to cool the area of a bruise or a cut by applying direct pressure to decrease the blood flow to the area. "Move in, land two shots and jump back if you have too. He doesn't have your speed and if he tries to catch you, he'll get tired. Then you knock him out!"

"His punches…" wheezed Beast Boy, "they…feel like brick or something." He winced. "My head hurts."

Bruce poured ice water over his scalp.

"You took a lot of headshots in that one, kid. If you want to stop I won't be mad at you and no one else will." Bruce was hoping this reverse psychology would motivate his trooper.

The ref came over to their corner.

"Can you continue," he asked Beast Boy.

He wearily nodded in response.

"What's your name?" asked the ref.

"My…name?"

"Three seconds to tell me," warned the ref, "or I'm stopping this!"

"Logan," said Beast Boy. "My name is Logan."

The ref nodded and went off.

"But people know me as Wolverine of the X-Men," finished Beast Boy.

The bell rang for round two and Beast Boy went out slowly. Farman immediately took advantage and slammed him into a neutral corner and began firing hooks to the body.

* * *

Kori was crying and Dick had stopped watching. 

Tim was flabbergasted by what was going on. There was no way Garfield was losing. He was their motivation-the comeback kid.

"Stone hands," muttered Victor.

"What?" asked Raven in an upset tone.

"That's what the fortune telling stuff meant," explained Victor. "They saw a woman turned into a statue _and_ stone hands that'll destroy him. They aren't related, they're separate items of his future! And this is door number two."

* * *

Beast Boy picked himself up after being knocked down for a forth time. His vision was blurred and the ringing in his ears was even worse now. The ref came over to him again. 

"I can keep going," he told him. "I can beat him." He stepped forward but fell to the side into the ropes. The referee caught him and started waving his hands.

Farman raised his hands in victory as the bell rang, signalling the end of the round.

"No," cried Beast Boy, "I can still win. I'm not hurt!"

"It's done, son," the ref whispered into his ear as he hugged him to keep him up. "My kids were rooting for you. You're still a hero to them."

Bruce and Alfred entered the ring to receive their battered fighter.

"I'm proud of you," said Alfred. "You stood your ground and never wanted to stop."

Bruce was quiet.

"The winner by TKO in the second round, Jorge Farman," announced the ring announcer.

The audience gave courtesy applause. Most of them had read about Garfield Logan and had come to see the Beast Boy in action. But now they had seen that the beast had just been killed by a wild hunter.

As he stepped down the stairs, Garfield could see the flashes of light from cameras and could hear the audience chanting his last name. With Alfred still holding onto him, he raised his wrapped hand in salute one last time.

"This is crap," Bruce repeated as they got out of the auditorium.

Back in the locker room, other fighters offered condolences to Garfield, telling him that this was only one fight and that Ali and many other greats lost fights before.

His team mates were quiet too. It wasn't that they were angry with him-far from it. They were proud of him like Alfred and Bruce (though he refused to show it).

Raven sat next to him as he removed his t-shirt and rubbed a damp washcloth over his back.

"I would have beaten him," he mumbled.

"I know," she answered. Raven kissed his scalp and rubbed his shoulder. "You're still my hero."

Garfield wasn't listening. He had fallen asleep and started snoring.

"Garfield," cried Bruce as he slumped over Raven. "Garfield, wake up, you can't fall asleep!"

"Oh, god, he killed him," whispered Dick.

Raven and the others quickly laid him onto a table and waited while the medical official in the locker room quickly looked him over.

"Too early to tell if there's brain damage," the young man explained.

* * *

Five minutes after exiting the ring, news went out over the local radio stations that Garfield 'Beast Boy' Logan had lost. 

To be continued...

Once again, I apologize for making you wait. I don't know how well this holds to the other chapters but I hope it is enough for you to stay satisfied.  
Terra will be seen again, I hope you liked her.  
In order to help keep you entertained, would you like to wait for long chapters like this or be updated with short chapters? Please let me know, you have no idea how bad I feel about the wait.


	15. The Comeback

Wow...would you look at all the dust that's gathered here. Cough cough. OK, first, this is an update-duh! Second, this chapter makes up for Chapter 14. Third, sorry that I don't update as quickly as I used to/should. Let's face it, the big names in boxing fight more in a year than I update. But let's not fret. New chapter which means new reviews. Let's see if we can get the reviews over 300...not that it's important, I just like to gloat.

Chapter Fourteen: The Comeback

The cold metal of the stethoscope pressed against the heart of Garfield Logan while Dr. Greg Laurie listened to the heartbeat.

"Heart rate…normal," he analyzed as he pulled the earpieces out. "He hasn't been twitching…"

"He's still snoring," complained Raven.

Laurie looked at her with his five o'clock shadow face. "Thank you," he said in a dry tone, "I couldn't hear with nothing in my ears."

Raven felt very tempted to punch the doctor but couldn't since Alfred was taping her hands.

"There's one simple explanation as to why he's snoring," explained Laurie. "He's asleep."

"Asleep?" asked Tim. "You're saying he's sleeping?"

"Hmmm…I suppose asleep is the appropriate word to describe someone who's sleeping," answered Laurie, still using the same sarcastic tone he used with Raven.

"Can you wake him?" asked Bruce.

Laurie shrugged. "He seems to be into it right now." He sighed. "But…there is a method I could use to wake him."

"Do it," said Bruce.

Laurie moved his slender frame close to Garfield's head, bent to his ear and shouted, "WAKE UP, GARFIELD!"

* * *

Garfield found himself back in the ring, still wearing his gloves but his headgear was missing. The auditorium was dark and all lights were on the ring. Garfield wasn't even sure if he was in the auditorium or how he got back into the rings. He moved towards the ropes and looked out to see if he could find where he was.

"Is anybody here?" he called.

From behind him came a large booming noise. Garfield turned to see Jorge Farman staring at him and banging his gloves together. He too, was sans headgear. His biceps bulged and his chest was flat like steel and probably just as strong.

"I almost killed you last time," Farman said. "This time, I'll do better."

An ill-intentioned smile appeared on his face. The small thin moustache under his nostrils made him seem even more threatening.

"No," said Garfield. "I don't want to fight you." He tried to move out of the ring but found that his feet had merged with the ring canvas. Gloved hands pulled the legs to get them moving but they wouldn't budge.

Farman slowly walked towards Garfield, delaying the inevitable like a killer in a horror movie. His gloves still making the booming sound.

It was at this point that Garfield realized that he wasn't wearing a mouthpiece.

Farman put his gloves on his hips and sneered at Garfield.

"Take your best shot," he invited. "Hit me wherever you want as hard as you can."

Garfield was panting, trying not to panic. He put himself in a fighting stance and threw everything he had at his gargantuan opponent.

Garfield felt his wrist shatter as he struck Farman's abs. Fine china against a terrifying obelisk.

Garfield screamed in pain as he felt blood seeping through the glove. Farman's body was indestructible in the mean time. Garfiled found that it was like trying to break marble with water balloons.

Farmarn was about to connect with Garfield's chin when he heard someone shout, "WAKE UP, GARFIELD!"

* * *

Garfield shot up from the table like a zombie. His eyes were wide and his breathing was laboured, sweat was forming on his back and chest.

"He seems fine," summarized Laurie. He looked Garfield in the face and shined a penlight into his eyes. "What's two plus two?"

"Four," panted Garfield wearily, still drowsy from his catnap.

"Spell first name backwards."

"D-L-E-I-F-R-A-G."

"What's the best team in the NHL?"

"What? Oh, I don't know, the one with the overpaid players."

"Not much of a hockey fan?"

"No."

"He's fine," Laurie said as he clicked off the penlight and looked at Bruce. "I would recommend that you don't spar for at least ten days."

"Yeah," mumbled Garfield.

Alfred fitted Raven's gloves on her while Bruce put on the headgear.

"Are you ready?" Bruce asked her.

She nodded. She tapped Garfield on the shoulder.

He looked at her.

"Are you going to watch on the TV?" she asked.

He nodded. "Just…just try to do better than I did, OK?"

* * *

Raven won a split decision.

Kori won by unanimous decision.

Dick won by TKO in the first round.

Tim and Victor won by KO.

The ride home was bittersweet.

Bruce had called Sally earlier to inform her of Garfield's loss. He knew that the first loss can usually be traumatic to a fighter who's been on a winning streak. But to a fighter that had achieved the recognition that Garfield had obtained would only make this loss sting even more.

As soon as he entered his apartment his mother got up from the table and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she said. "But you can't let this stop you from doing what you want."

"Mom…all I wanted to do was win this tournament. I wanted to win and say that on a certain day of the year I was good at something I wasn't pegged for." He let himself out of his mother's embrace and went towards his room. "Do we have any comfort food?" he asked her.

"Yes, we do," answered Sally. "Is there anything in particular you want?"

Garfield shrugged as he entered his bedroom, keeping the lights off.

"Surprise me," he said. "Just knock and leave it outside the door."

* * *

Robert Stone was tapping his desk while trying to cure a spontaneous case of writers block. It had come up out of nowhere and now the frustration of trying to figure out how to end one paragraph and then the rest of the story was making it hard for him to concentrate. It became even harder for him to concentrate when he heard a tapping at the wall of his cubicle. He turned and saw Francine, the secretary, a short, large wise woman in her 50s standing there.

"Hey, Francine," he greeted with a yawn, "what's up?"

"Robert, you've had this look on your face ever since you came in this morning that just tells me that you're in trouble."

"Am I that predictable?" he asked.

"At times."

Robert sighed, looked at his screen and then back at Francine.

"It's about that Gar Logan kid I wrote about."

"That boy who lost last night? That's too bad, I read that story so many times, I thought he'd be an amazing story."

"Well…now that he's out, Jack is going to be on my ass because he told me that this story wasn't important."

"Mmm…true but I'm sure people are going to be eager to see where the rest of those kids go, right?"  
Robert shrugged. "Yeah, but…I don't know, everyone wanted to see Rocky win but after Apollo beat him nobody cared to see what Apollo did. They wanted to watch Rocky."

Francine put her hands over her face and gave a sob-like sound.

"What's the matter?"  
Her fingers dragged down her face.

"I fogot to mention this to you. Do you remember that summer student program we're doing?"

Robert's face dropped.

"Don't tell me…"

"It's only for the summer, Rob, if you keep him busy I'm sure it won't be too painful."

Earlier in the year, Jump City University had made a deal with the president of the paper to have a student from the journalism program come and work with another reporter.

"This was Jack's idea, wasn't it?"

Francine nodded.

"He said that you usually enjoy taking on tasks that no one else cares about."

Robert cursed in a foreign language.

"How am I supposed to work with a shadow around me who can't really contribute."

Francine shrugged.

"Have some fun. Make him a gofer."

"Good idea."

Francine turned around and chuckled.

"Glad you like it, because here he comes."

Robert turned around and saw a young white male in a blue shirt and khakis come towards him. He was clean-shaven with short spiked brown hair.

"I'll leave you to have fun," whispered Francine as she went on her way.

The young man approached Robert and held out his hand.

"Robert Stone? I'm Jake Kinsey from JCU."

_Fun time_, thought Robert. He put a frown on his face and limply took Jake's hand.

"Oh, boy, a white kid, this is gonna be interesting," he mumbled loud enough for him to hear as he went back to his computer.

Jake got a timid look on his face and tried to compose himself.

"Uh…I was thinking, since we're going to be covering the State Championship, we could contact some of the winners from the first round and get their opinions on their next bouts."

"I have an even better idea," began Robert but Jake was still rambling on.

"…the judges, see if they have any opinions on the fighters and if they have any favourites and then-"

"Kid," said Robert loudly to wake him back into reality. "Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm but right now I got an important lead I need you to follow up on."

Jake's face lit up. "You want me to follow up a lead?"

Robert jotted down a phone number on a small note page and handed it to Jake. "Get in your cubicle, get on the phone, and just find out their hours. Ask nothing else, just introduce yourself as a reporter from the _Times_ and just say you only want to know the hours. Can you handle that?"

Jake was nodding like a six year old boy who was just asked by his dad if he wanted to play catch with his dad. He eagerly got into his cubicle which was directly behind Robert's, turned on his computer and picked up the phone. He dialled the number and waited for the other line to pick up.

Robert listened carefully with attentive ears as Jake spoke

"Hello, my name is Jake Kinsey, I'm a reporter for the _Jump City Times_ and I…no, I don't know about any investigation…I'm very serious, sir, I don't know; it's my first day."

There was a pause. "No, I'm not lying to you, it _is_ my first day. I'm not-I just want to know your hours of operation. Yes, that's all. Nine to nine, everyday. And…yes that _is _all I wanted to know." There was a final pause. Jake gave a chuckle. "That's fine, sir, call me whatever you want." He hung up the phone and stuck his head over the cubicle.

"He swore at me," said Jake with amazement. "I mean…do people really do that? You call for their hours and they _swear _at you?"

Robert chuckled. "Glad you didn't swear back at him, that can get you in big trouble."

Jake clapped his hands together. "So…where do we go on from here with that phone call."

Robert scribbled down some words on a piece of notepad paper and then handed it to Jake.

"Go to Sal's Pastries two blocks down the road and get me what's on that list."

Jake's face dropped. "You want me to go pick up donuts?"

Robert smiled and handed him a green note. "My wife doesn't let me eat them at home so I have to turn tricks, so to speak. You can keep the change."

* * *

The hot summer weather didn't make it any easier on those who trained in _Titans Boxing Club_ since there was no ventilation in the gym.

Victor had already drenched his sweatshirt when he came back from roadwork and now that he was in a muscle shirt, the discomfort factor had only dropped a little bit. He had only four days to prepare for the second fight and he wanted to win badly. He wanted to wear the belt, he wanted his picture taken, he wanted people to recognize him as he walked down the street.

"Victor," called Bruce as he approached him and held the heavy bag for him. "Speed, fifteen seconds."

Victor knew what the command meant: Give hell for fifteen seconds.

As each punch was thrown, Victor grunted loudly, every bit of anger and frustration he felt in his life was put into his fists.

"Time," called Bruce and Victor stopped.

Victor backed away from the bag and panted. Bruce wiped his head with a towel.

"Take a rest for five or ten minutes," advised Bruce, "then get back to work but wear your mouthpiece this time."

Victor nodded and panted, "Thanks." As he sat on the bench and looked around he saw that something was missing.

"Yo, Alfred," he called to the man behind the desk. "You know if BB's coming down today?"

Alfred shrugged. "I don't know what he plans to do. But the day is still young. I'm sure anything can happen."

* * *

Jake presented the box of pastries to Robert and wiped his brow.

"Pretty fast," remarked Robert.

"I used to do track and field in high school," muttered Jake as he caught his breath. "So…is there any article that we should get to work on?"

"Actually," said Robert, "I need you to go thru the phone book and check the prices of all the Chinese places in town. Do you like Chinese?"

Jake gritted his teeth. "No," he growled.

"OK, then you can call Burger King and see if they can deliver you a kids meal or something."

Jake lifted his head up, looking at Robert.

"No, I mean, I am not going to run around getting food for you," snarled Jake.

Robert raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, really? Are you saying that you want to quit?"

"No, but I'm smart enough to know that this isn't part of the job. I'm supposed to be helping you with articles, you're supposed to show me what it's like to be a reporter. I'm not a lapdog who's going to buy you doughnuts simply because you're scared that your wife will catch you at home!"

At this point, several other people were sticking their heads out their cubicles or over their cubicle walls to get an exclusive at what was unfolding.

"I don't want to get you doughnuts," continued Jake, "or anything else that's going to go in your mouth unless you actually let me do some real work! I'm not some dumb punk who wrote just one good article in his class-I've submitted stuff to _The New Yorker_ so I'd have to say I'm pretty damn good at what I want to do!"

Robert smiled and handed the kid another sheet of paper.

"I'm not taking that," said Jake.

"That's the phone numbers of three of the gyms that had winners last night," explained Robert. "Get cracking, call them, ask them exactly what you wanted to ask them."

Jake frowned and looked puzzled. "Why, then, did you…?"  
"Rule number one," explained Robert, "don't take crap from people when you know you don't have to."

Jake smiled and headed towards his cubicle.

"So…you wrote for _The New Yorker_?" asked Robert.

"No," answered Jake.

"But you just said-"

"I said I _submitted_…they just turned it all down."

* * *

"Thank you," said Jake as he typed away Mr. Crozier's response on his computer. He had just completed his third interview and was now starting to breathe a lot easier now that he had figured out Robert Stone's game.

"Mr. Stone?" Jake asked as he popped his head out of his cubicle, "I just finished another one, got any others you want me to tackle?"

"Yeah," replied Robert without getting up and looking at Jake, his face still on his computer screen. "First, call me Robert, Rob, even Bob but don't call me 'Mr. Stone'. And you can call that huge kid who beat Gar Logan the other night. What's his name?"

"Jorge Farman."

"That's right," muttered Robert. "The one that looks like a bulldog."

Jake chuckled as he flopped back down into his chair and dialled the number for the _Iron Fist Boxing Club_.

"Hello, my name's Jake Kinsey, I'm a reporter for-"

"Oh what the hell is this!?" barked the man on the other end.

"I'm sorry?" asked Jake. "There must be some mistake I'm just calling to ask about-"

"Don't you beat around the bush, you little desk job pansy! I wanna know which of those rats told you about the dope!"

"Sir, I have no idea what you're talking about," said Jake as he began snapping his fingers above his head to get Robert's attention.

Sure enough, the dark man peered over and saw his assistant mouth the words, 'Line two'. He picked up his phone carefully and soon listened in on the conversation while keeping his hand over the speaker.

"All I wanted to do is conduct a short interview with Mr. Farman about his next match."

"There isn't going to be a next match!" shouted the man, whom both Robert and Jake assumed was Farman's trainer.

"And…and why is that?" asked Jake as he began typing away.

"You little crap! I wanna know who told you he failed that drug test! They said that they weren't going to announce this until tomorrow. Who the hell told you?"

"Failed drug test?"

"Did they tell you that I'm gonna be under investigation? _Jesus Christ_, I help my fighter out by giving him an edge and they wanna take away his win and give it back to that little turd he beat!"

Robert hung up and got to the top of his cubicle wall. He ran his index finger across his throat.

"I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong number," said Jake as he disconnected.

"Let's get this straight," said Robert. "Farman was doped…possibly without him knowing."

"All the boxers had their urine tested before the fights," continued Jake. "Whatever was in Farman's system was obviously picked up by the tests…so they're dropping him from the rest of the contest…"

"And if I understood his profanity, they're putting Garfield back in…"

Robert got up from his desk.

"OK, start writing: _Scandal Rocks State Championship_. Call the judges, pry whatever you can from them and then start writing. I'll be back in a while."

"Where are you going?" asked Jake.

"I'd much rather deliver this news in person than over the phone."

* * *

Garfield Logan sat in his boxers atop the covers. A blue bruise was visible on his ribs. His hands were acting as a pillow as they themselves rested on the pillow of his bed. From this position he could get a good whiff of his armpits and he realized that he didn't smell too good. He never showered after last night and he didn't want to now. He would just lay there like a smelly bump on the log while Farman was probably off partying and planning his next hit on a soon-to-be-executed fighter. Chances are he was going to win the Championship too.

He felt so stupid. What the hell was he thinking getting involved in a sport where it's either kill or be killed?

"Screw boxing," muttered Garfield.

It felt so good to say those words.

Screw boxing.

They seemed so right. You train and train and train and train and after that you train some more. All for sometimes just six minutes of action. Then that's it. How long had he trained. How many sore muscles, cracked ribs, headaches, bloody noses, sore hands, sore feet, sore everything, how much of it had he gone through only to have such a humiliating defeat?

"Screw boxing," he repeated.

* * *

"What do you mean he's not here?" asked Robert.

Victor shrugged. "Sorry, Dad, but he hasn't shown up and there's no answer at his place."

"Mr. Stone," greeted Bruce as he came down the stairs. "Here for an exclusive?"

Robert smiled. "Not today, Bruce. I'm here to give _you_ an exclusive."

"Oh?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Bruce sat at his desk and almost chuckled at the story he had been just told.

"When did you find this out?" he asked.

"Only ten, twenty minutes ago." His cell-phone started ringing. "Just give me a minute," he told Bruce. "Jake, what do you got? Uh-huh…_really_? Yeah, I'll be sure to relay that. OK." He turned off his cell phone and looked at Bruce. "If Garfield isn't coming in today, you might want to get him."

* * *

Garfield Logan had exited the shower thirty minutes ago and had dried off but had wilfully neglected to get dressed. Instead he sat naked in the recliner couch, watching an anime he stumbled upon channel surfing while eating chocolate chip pancakes.

_This is _so _much better than boxing_, he thought as he chewed. _No pain, no strain, no…bad stuff._

There was a click and Garfield heard the lock turn and the door was suddenly pushed open.

Garfield screamed and hid behind the side of the sofa bed, away from the door.

"Mom, don't come in, close the door," called Garfield, "I don't got any pants on."

"I'm not your mother," Garfield heard Bruce say as he closed the door.

"Wha…?" asked Garfield as he peeked out the side of the couch. Bruce was there in a black t-shirt and blue jeans. He ducked his head back and buried his head on his knees.

_I'm so busted!_ he thought. _I'm stark naked in my living room and Bruce has to walk in._

"I don't know where you are," said Bruce, "but just grab some pants or something to make you decent."

Garfield turned around and stood up, his lower half covered by the sofa. His cheeks were red and he kept his head down.

Bruce sighed and shook his head.

"How…how'd you get in here? I never buzzed you in," said Garfield.

Bruce held up a single key. "Your mom made me a copy."

"Could you…uh…" Garfield twirled his finger.

Bruce turned around and Garfield streaked to his bedroom where he quickly put on some boxers and some jean shorts and came back into the living room to find Bruce sitting in the recliner. The anime had been put on mute.

"Sitting ass naked, eating pancakes and watching Japanese cartoons," remarked Bruce. "I take it you didn't plan on coming to the gym today."

"No," said Garfield quietly.

Bruce squinted. "How's that bruise?"

"It's OK," said Garfield. "Are you mad at me because I lost?"

Bruce frowned. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"I lost," said Garfield. "I lost pretty badly."

"Did you cry?" asked Bruce. "Did you go into round two with doubts about yourself? Did you beg us not to send you back in? You took your beating like a man and you still wanted to keep fighting. I was proud of you, Garfield. I was only upset about that Farman kid-and that's why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"Do you remember the mandatory drug tests before the fights?"  
"Yeah. We had to pee in a cup."

"Farman tested positive on the results. He had something in his system when he won the fight. The judges are going to allow you back into competition and give you a bye for the next round. All you need to do is win the next two matches and you'll be champion."

"And what about that the loss? Is it still going to be regarded as one."

"It's going to be recorded as a win by disqualification. So you're still five for five. So, get dressed, get your gear and I'll drive you back."

"Actually, Bruce," chuckled Garfield, "I don't wanna do boxing anymore."

Bruce's face dropped. "What do you mean you're done with it?"

"I mean I don't want to fight anymore. I mean, I train and train and train and it doesn't make any difference. Besides, I trained my ass off and I still got beat."

"You got beat by someone using steroids!" Bruce insisted. "It was a mismatch and if you hadn't faced Farman that night you would have faced someone else you could have beaten."

"Maybe, but I just don't think I want to do it anymore. The loss kind of woke me up."

Bruce was getting angry. "And what about the people who were rooting for you?"

Garfield shrugged. "They can find someone else to root for."

Bruce sprang up from the chair and pulled Garfield up by the arms, looking him dead in the eyes.

"You little brat! Do you think that you can just walk away from all of this and people will just go on? You're the hope of an entire city! People have been coming to the gym just to watch you train and just because you got knocked around, you want to stop. I wonder what they'll think when it says in the paper tomorrow that you _refused_ to re-enter the tournament?" Bruce released Garfield, walked to the door and opened it. "You have two options Garfield, either take advantage of a second chance, or just keep running away and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth I just don't give a shit."

Garfield stared at the door and felt a chill go through his body. What the hell had be been thinking by quitting? He wanted to run after Bruce and apologize over and over but something in the back of his head was telling him that he might get knocked out if he pestered the man enough.

* * *

A crowd was at the gym when Bruce got back. They were so busy observing the boxers that they thankfully didn't pay any attention to him as he went back up to his office.

The nerve of that kid! How could he throw something away that most amateur boxers would give their teeth over?

He slammed the door and drew in the blinds so he could have privacy. If alcohol wasn't such a problem for him in the past he probably would have downed a shot in frustration.

How would this affect his relationship with his mother? Would she be upset over the way he spoke to her son or would she see things from his perspective and agree?

Suddenly the telephone in his office rang. He looked at it and wanted it to leave him alone. But he knew that it was Alfred calling from the front desk. He sighed and picked up the receiver.

"Yes, Alfred?"

"Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but there's a young man here who wants to box."

Bruce groaned. "Alfred, just give him the sign-up sheet and have him fill it out."

"Normally I would, however he is requesting your…approval to box."

"Send him up," growled Bruce. Whoever this new kid was, Bruce intended to show him the ugly side of boxing from the beginning. He would warn him about detached retinas, broken noses, dementia and all the other demons related to the sport.

The door opened and Garfield Logan entered the office.

"You're here to box?" asked Bruce, not entirely surprised to see who was in front of him.

"I'm here to box," Garfield squeaked. He looked like a prisoner, begging for his life.

"What made you change your mind?"

"You did," answered Garfield. "And…I knew that I wouldn't be able to look at myself without hating myself for walking away."

"It's not that easy," said Bruce. "You can't just waltz back in here and expect that it'll all be the same."

Garfield gulped. "What do you mean."

"I mean you'll have to prove yourself," explained Bruce. "Prove that you can last 3 rounds against Dick and the slate will be wiped clean."

"And…if I don't last?"

"Then I'll put you through a training program I like to call, A Thousand Years of Pain."

* * *

Dick paced majestically in the ring, almost like a cat, stalking a mouse. Bruce had told him about his task and now he waited for Garfield to don the groin protector, headgear and mouthpiece. The mouthpiece was the only piece of equipment he decided to wear; he figured it would be good practice for him for the Championship. He bounced on his feet, eager to fight Garfield.

In his workout clothes and all the protective gear on his person, Garfield stepped into the ring and watched as Dick gracefully danced around the ring, not paying any attention to Garfield and just throwing out jabs at an invisible opponent.

The electric clock went off and Garfield went out to meet Dick. They tapped gloves and the spar began. While Garfield went on the offensive, Dick was dancing away from Garfield and slipping and sliding away from punches. Occasionally Garfield would land a jab to the body but Dick would quickly land two to his face and dance away. The hurt from the previous fight still lingered in Garfield's body and he could feel his arms start to droop.

_Don't get tired_, he shouted to himself. _Stay alive._

Ten seconds before the end of the round, Garfield was able to fake Dick out with straight left and land a good combination to his face.

The audience had certainly gotten into the spar and cheered at the end of the round. Alfred refreshed Dick with water while Bruce worked Garfield's corner.

"The reason you're getting so frustrated is because Dick's dancing away from you before you can catch him. You have to make him come to you. If he dances away, wave your glove towards him like you're saying, 'Come on, bring it' because Dick hates being taunted. Also, you're not angling your body. Remember, angle your body and he's got a smaller target to hit."

The minute passed too quickly for Garfield. The headgear was too tight on him, making every blow he took to the head in the next round even more painful. His ribs were aching but he had to earn this. It was either another round of punishment or the Nazi punishment that Bruce had planned in the evil recesses of his mind.

Just as Garfield finished that thought, Dick was able to get past his guard and drop him with a hard left hook. The crash to the canvas woke Garfield up and everyone 'ooo'd' at the hard impact.

"You're OK," called Bruce over the commotion. "Get up, get up."

Garfield shook his head while on all fours and stood up just as the bell rang.

_Saved by the bell_, he thought as he staggered back to his corner. He could feel blood coming from his nose. As he sat down on the stool, he asked Bruce a question that had been lingering in his mind.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to spar for ten days," Garfield inquired.

"He _recommended _that. I'm not a doctor, but I've been boxing more years than you've been alive and I know a lot more about boxers than that doctor did."

"So what do I do for the last round? His punches are pretty hard."

"Just dance," advised Bruce as he stuck a q-tip up Garfield's nose. "Let him come to you and that'll really piss him off. Then hammer him with everything you got in the last thirty seconds."

Garfield stood up from his stool and looked Dick in the eyes. Out of one last act of arrogance, he stuck his tongue out and waved it at Dick like a child on the schoolyard.

The bell rang and Garfield immediately began to dance, keeping his distance from Dick and not let him cut off the ring. Then without hesitation he dashed towards the older man and slammed him with body shots.

_Hithithithithithithithithithithithit! _Garfield screamed mentally while exhaling with every blow.

Eventually the onslaught got to much for Dick and he moved forward to draw Garfield into a clinch.

Garfield saw the move coming a mile away. He moved back and drove a left uppercut that landed on Dick's chin, making him wobble and then crash down against the bottom ropes.

The crowd was cheering and photographs were snapping like mad.

"That's it," shouted Bruce. He got up on the canvas and helped Dick up. "Garfield, take off your headgear and do three rounds on the heavy bag!" He pulled out Dick's mouthpiece and saw that parts of it were red. "Are you OK?"

"He hit me really hard," panted Dick. "When he punched my ribs, I thought they were going to break."

* * *

"So you're gonna come back in the tournament?" asked Victor as he dried himself off.

Garfield finished pulling up his socks. "Yeah. Bruce really gave me a talking-to and I realized that I couldn't just let this go."

"He yelled at you?" chuckled Tim as he put his t-shirt on. "Did he get up in your face?"

Shuffling his feet, Garfield said, "He kinda dashed across the room and picked me up by the arms. And before he started shouting I had a feeling he was going to kill me."

Tim laughed. "Yeah, I've been there plenty of times before. Bruce wouldn't hit you though. I've done worse stuff and he's never laid a finger on me in anger."

"But just his voice is scary," admitted Victor. "I mean, sometimes when he chewed you out, I would get scared myself, thinking that he might just yell at me for no good reason."

The three of them laughed at their intimidation of Bruce. It was strange that despite the fact that they often faced strangers in the ring and knew that they would get hurt, that all paled in comparison to a father figure who was an Olympic champion and heavyweight contender.

The door to the locker room swung open and in walked Dick, holding his side.

"How you holdin' up?" asked Victor.

"Check this out," Dick almost whispered. He took off his t-shirt and showed the group a bruise twice the size of a golf ball that was many different colours.

"Holy crap!" exclaimed Tim in laughter. "Jesus Christ, that's got to be killer!"

"Dude, I'm so sorry," Garfield sincerely apologized. "It was just, I had to beat you so-"

Dick waved at hand at the younger man. "Forget it, Gar. I've been threatened with Bruce's 'Thousand years of pain' warning and I've even suffered through it once before I won the championship. Believe me, I'm surprised you didn't go so far as to kill me to make sure you didn't go through it."

* * *

Later, the four guys decided that they would go cruising around town looking for fun and trouble. When Garfield arrived home to quickly get dressed and grab some cash, his mother was heating up some leftovers.

"Are you going to be late?" she asked.

"Depends," he answered as he laced up his shoes.

"Garfield, please don't do anything dumb," she pleaded.

"I don't do anything dumb," Garfield defended. "That's why I'm going out tonight."

"Well, I'll probably be going to bed early. I haven't been having trouble sleeping lately so I want to try and catch up."

"OK, mom, I'll try not to come home too hammered," Garfield smiled as he left.

Sally smiled. It was hard to believe how much he had changed over the months. He was a completely different person. Stronger, confident, determined and above all, happier.

He was having fun while she worked hard to provide for them. And then an idea popped into her head. If her son was going out to have fun, why couldn't she? She picked up the phone and began dialling Bruce's number.

"Hello?" greeted Bruce in that broody tone of his. Sally often found it hard to believe that he was a fan favourite in his pro days when he spoke like that.

"Bruce, it's Sally."

"Hi," he said, the tone gone and replaced with one that was more sociable and pleasant. "What's up?"

"Are you doing anything tonight?" she asked.

Bruce hesitated. "I was going to…check my emails, maybe watch some old fights."

"Would you like to come over?" Sally invited. "I've got some wine, leftovers and an empty house that's just _too_ quiet for my tastes."

"I'll be right over, in that case," Bruce said. "Did you want me to…bring anything? A movie or-"

"Just come over," Sally insisted. "I'll be waiting."

"On my way." Bruce clicked off and Sally hung up.

She turned off the microwave, went to a drawer and got out some candles.

* * *

Bruce drove down the streets of Jump City, sometimes going over the speed limit. He knew what was in store for him when he got to his girlfriend's apartment. He knew it when his old girlfriends would call him at the gym and ask him to come over. They didn't even have to say it, he recognized the tone in their voices.

With the sun starting to set, the afternoon heat was still blistering and would continue on into the night. Bruce drove with the air conditioner off and the driver's side window open a crack. He wanted to keep his body heat high and not risk getting cold. Sex was like a workout, the warmer you stay, the more you'll be able to go on but you don't want to get too hot so that you burn out just when things are getting good.

He got out of his car when he got to the complex and pulled out his key smoothly and made his way to the elevator. It was important not to use stairs and waste energy.

It was strange, during his pro, and late into his amateur career, Bruce had always had plenty of one-night stands and girlfriends. He had even moved in with a girl once and planned to marry her but with Sally it was all different. She seemed to fill whatever void was present in his life and the time they spent together, whether naked or clothed was the most satisfying her ever had with a woman he loved.

Once he approached the door to her apartment, he lightly knocked twice. Without waiting to be invited in, he slowly opened the door and found the vicinity to be dark. Only a small light above the stove provided illumination for Bruce.

"Sally?" he called. He then knew that he didn't have to. She would be waiting for him in the most logical place. Closing the door and slipping off his shoes, Bruce made his way down the dark hallway, past Garfield's room, the bathroom, until he stood before Sally's bedroom door and pushed it open gently.

There she lay, seductively on her bed wearing her red lingerie which she had bought shortly after her second date with Bruce. She felt so excited, bringing her boyfriend into her bedroom while her son was out on the town. It reminded her of times with Mark except she knew that Bruce wouldn't leave her if things ever got complicated. Not that she expected to have a child with Bruce but that wasn't the original plan with Mark. "Glad to see you made it," she greeted. "You know, with Garfield going away to college next year, it's going to get very lonely around here." She started to crawl towards Bruce.

Feeling the lust in the air, he bent down and kissed her. "It doesn't have to be so lonely," he mused. "There's something I'd like to ask you, unless you had other plans first?"

"We'll talk later," she said. She threw herself back on the bed laying face up.

With only the lamp on her night table, Bruce felt that he could comfortably strip for Sally. He wasn't going to be cocky and strip seductively like a Barry White song was playing. Once down to his boxer briefs he crawled onto the bed.

* * *

Downtown Jump City was ablaze with the summer life of the season. Visiting tourists, partying high school and college students made it a lively area with all the bars and strip clubs in the radius.

"Why couldn't you get us ID's?" Tim asked from the backseat of the car. "Some of us would like to see women take their clothes off for us."

"They do it for me already," said Victor.

"I couldn't get one for Garfield," explained Dick. "Tim could'a used one of my old ID's and Vic you look old enough but Garfield's got face that was hard for me to match. I wasn't about to give him one with a Puerto Rican guy on it."

"Sorry," mumbled Garfield.

"Ah, not your fault," consoled Dick. "Besides, just cause we don't have ID's doesn't mean we can't _try_ to get in, right? _Right_?" Dick parked the car on the curb.

"We-we're going into a strip club?" gulped Garfield. "B-but I'm underage!"

"So are we," said Victor as he got out of the car. "Don't mean we can't try."

"Wh-what about Raven?" asked Garfield as he shut his door, unwillingly going along with them yet still trying to find an excuse out of it.

"What about her?" asked Tim. "Do you think she'd want to come with us?"

"I'm _dating_ Raven! This is almost…cheating!"

Dick put his arm around Garfield. "Look, Gar. Don't think of it as cheating. It's not. I got a girlfriend who's at home and I'm gonna visit her soon but that doesn't mean that I can't look at women while I'm dating her."

"But…I really like Raven…" stammered Garfield.

"And I like Barbra," insisted Dick, "but it doesn't mean that we can't have fun. Besides, you can look but you can't touch. And besides, if looking was so bad, we'd all be broken up by now."

Garfield sighed. "Just…don't tell her about it, OK?"

Dick laughed as they got to the door. "What happens in here, stays in here."

Garfield gulped. "Thanks," he said even though half of him didn't mean it. _Strip bars, _he thought, _the final frontier_.

* * *

Once again, Bruce Wayne found himself naked in bed with his girlfriend. They had just finished another romp full of kisses, caresses, clawing, panting, sweating and moaning. Now they stared at the ceiling as a fan slowly rotated counter clockwise for it had gotten to hot that it was intolerable.

"Come on," said Sally as she threw off the covers and got out of bed. She went to the door and got a silk bathrobe and but it on.

"Where are we going?" Bruce asked as he climbed out and reached for his boxer briefs.

"To the kitchen," Sally answered as she opened the door, "and don't bother putting those on."

Bruce looked at them and then tossed them aside. "Why not?"

"Because you're going to be taking them off when we're done."

Bruce was sitting at the kitchen table while Sally scrambled eggs in a pan. He was reminded of his time with Selina and how they would do almost the exact same thing. Sex, eat, more sex, rest, sex. But Sally was more than that. She was an intelligent woman and he knew that she wouldn't try to betray him.

Sally came to the table with the pan and scooped eggs onto his plate. "There you go."

"Thank you," smiled Bruce.

Eating her own eggs, she asked Bruce, "So what was it you were going to ask me?"

After swallowing a fork-full of eggs, Bruce cleared his throat. "I'd like to know if you want to move in with me when Garfield goes to college."

Sally wiped her lips and put down her cutlery. "Move in with you?"

"Yes," smiled Bruce. "Would you be willing to move all your stuff from here…to there-there being my place."

Her eyebrows went up in the boldness of his question. "So what happens after that?"

Bruce frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, what's after me moving in? Do we share a bedroom, separate rooms?"

"We'll…cross that bridge when we come to it. But I want you to just-"

"Are you going to ask me to marry you?"

An invisible punch socked Bruce in the jaw. "Would you want to get married?"

"It'd be nice to be married again. The truth is, while I would love to call someone my husband, I've always been afraid that I would be left alone with Garfield again."

"I wouldn't do that, Sally," insisted Bruce. "Whether you realize it or not, you're an important part of my life. I mean…" he chuckled, "I'm sitting naked in your kitchen…I don't do that for just any woman."

* * *

Dick Grayson's car speed down the streets, the four occupants knowing they had dodged a bullet. While trying to get into the strip club, Garfield had been stopped for ID.

Knowing that he was in trouble, Dick swung in to save the younger man by saying he was a foreigner and that he was of age, the bouncer didn't buy it. When Dick slipped him a fifty note and told him to keep his mouth shut, the bouncer threw the bill back at him. Dick then called him a foul four letter word. Then the bouncer whipped out his cellphone and threatened to call the police.

"I told you they would check me for ID!" shouted Garfield.

"Fine but I didn't think they'd take offence to a bribe," Dick defended.

"Well if you didn't call him what you called him for refusing it," Tim countered.

"Why the hell are you speeding anyway?" asked Victor. "Not as if he's chasing us."

"He said he was gonna call the cops," answered Dick. "When you got a parent like Bruce and you're brought home by the cops, you're more likely to survive a shootout with SWAT."

* * *

Sally was in the shower and Bruce was sitting at the table, reading an article about the war in Iraq. He had offered to join her but she insisted that he relax for now. Bruce had been invited to spend the night with her and he had accepted. As his eyes skimmed across the letters on each line, Sally's words kept echoing in his mind.

'_Are you going to ask me to marry you?'_

He had thought of proposing a few days after they made love for the first time and while their children where off training in Miami. But he knew that it was lust and his heart speaking and not his mind. But now things were getting more and more intense. What if she did decide to move in. How would that affect his relationship as a trainer with Garfield? Would he have to do more to earn the young man's respect? He already had it, but his mother was the only guardian he had throughout his life. For him to come in and figuratively swoop her away might cause tension and jealousy and even resentment. But Garfield was very mature for someone his age. He also had spoken with him briefly the first time he came to pick up his mother. And yet he had also promised him that he didn't plan become on becoming a father to him. But would it be so bad if he tried to be? At the moment, it would be closer to the one he had now. While he and Sally never talked about Garfield's biological father, Bruce knew that he lived at the other end of the state and had never spoken to or seen his son in the eighteen years of his existence. His son was dying of cancer and not so much as a phone call was made he remembered Tim telling him.

And what about Dick and Tim. Would they be able to accept calling Sally their mother? No doubt it would be a bit awkward at first calling Garfield their stepbrother but they were close so nothing would really change.

_Would she want me to adopt Garfield as my own son?_ he suddenly thought. A million thoughts went through his head.

* * *

Garfield found himself giggling as he entered his apartment. The night, like all his others with the guys was full of laughter, danger and above all fun. Dick had gone into a 24-hour liqueur store and bought a six-pack of beer. He gave one to each of the guys who couldn't buy beer legally and kept the rest for himself. While Garfield wasn't fond of committing a misdemeanour, he wanted to take a small step into what would be a preview of college. Beer binges, wild parties were what the stereotype was and most of the time it was true. He wasn't drunk and he didn't even have a buzz. He wasn't a big fan of underage drinking but he knew that when he did it he wouldn't do it to the point of getting so drunk that when he passed out, you could hold his eyes open and he still wouldn't wake up. He knew that he was being hypocritical with his logic but it didn't matter to him. He looked at the time and saw that it was 1:33AM. He would be up in less than six hours, training to earn redemption that had been granted to him a little more than twelve hours ago.

"A lot happens in a day," he admitted to himself.

He moved towards his mother's room so he could let her know that he was home. Even though she wouldn't remember it in the morning, he always felt a little better about telling his mother that he was safe and sound. With the light of the hallway to show him where he was going, Garfield was about to slip into her room quickly but stopped when he saw Bruce on the other side of the bed. He quickly closed the door tightly and returned to his.

_So,_ thought Garfield,

* * *

Raven bobbed and weaved around a double-end bag, striking it gently but still giving it enough force for it to move greatly. Kori was skipping and moving her feet along as well while observing her form in the mirror. Garfield was on the decline bench doing sit ups so that he could improve his six pack which Raven found incredibly sexy on him. Tim and Dick were doing pad work in the ring, switching between rounds and Victor was on the speedbag.

Once his elbows were on his knees, Garfield twisted his waist several times to get the maximum effect. Once he stopped, his attention focused towards the front desk where Bruce was chatting away on the phone. He must have left while Garfield went out for his morning roadwork since Garfield couldn't find a trace of the older man when he came back. And of course his mother didn't say anything about it to him. Not that she needed to. He was his own man…despite still living at home. And it wasn't that he was angry at Bruce, he just wished that he and his mother would be a bit forward with their relationship.

_Do you _want _them to tell you when they're having sex?_

"Good point," he muttered to himself as he continued his exercises. He knew he'd be sore afterwards but nothing that a hot shower and bath wouldn't relax afterwards.

"Listen up," called Bruce. "Come over here, I've got something to tell you." Once they were all before him their coach continued his speech. "Because of the coverage of this year's State Championship, there is a renewed interest in boxing in the city and some of the surrounding areas because of the hype. I was just talking to a producer over at 97.5-"

"JC Talk Radio?" interrupted Victor.

Bruce nodded. "That's right and they want to have you guys on the air with Mike Towers."

"So they want to interview us and then play it on the air?" asked Raven.

"Actually they want you to go to the studio, sit down and do an interview live on the air, maybe answer some questions from callers…if that's OK with you."

"I'm in," Victor piped up. "I want to do it." Victor had been accepted to several schools for broadcast journalism and had picked one four hours away from Jump City.

"Anyone else?" asked Bruce.

"I'll do it," volunteered Garfield. He turned to his girlfriend and asked quietly, "How bout you? Do you wanna come?"

"I don't-I…I'll go," said Raven in a brooding way.

Garfield gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"None of that," said Dick, "you'll take out your legs. I've talked with Towers tons of times before, I'll pass."

"Me too," said Tim. "Besides, if this tourney is getting to be as big as people are saying then this isn't the only time I'll be in front of a microphone."

Kori smiled. "I too will wait until I speak to the media."

Bruce clapped his hands together. "All right. Raven, Victor, Gar, go shower and get ready. They want you on the air in two hours but get there right away."

* * *

In Victor's car, the two passengers could sense the driver's excitement and anticipation as they got closer and closer to the radio station.

"Calm down," said Raven from the backseat of the car. "You look like you're going to pee yourself, you're bouncing around so much."

"I can't help it, Rae. This is what I wanna do with my life, I wanna be on the radio! It's like if you were going to meet Dr. Phil since you're into psychology."

"I don't watch Dr. Phil," replied Raven.

* * *

Mike Towers had a crew cut and a brown goatee. He was a wild sort of character who always had fun with his guests but made them comfortable that they'd want to come back for another chat. Sometimes he'd have celebrities come on the show though most of his chats with them came over the phone.

Now in a commercial break, the teens were lead into the studio and sat down in front of microphones, given their own headphones to wear and told to just act natural.

Victor viewed all the different coloured buttons like a child viewed candy. He wanted to press everyone, curious about their function even though he had been told not to touch anything.

"OK," smiled Towers as he tapped the table, "we're gonna be coming back from commercial in about a minute. I'm just gonna ask some simple questions about training, fights, the tournament. You know, just be yourselves."

Victor rubbed his hands together and gave a little squeal.

Towers laughed. "This guy's ready to go." He looked at the clock. "OK, here we go."

A steady rap beat started filling the air and then Towers grabbed his mic and started speaking into it. "And we're back. Mike Towers on 97.5. And…oh hold on." He pressed a button and suddenly the theme from the movie _Rocky_ started playing while Towers continued. "OK, now, in the thirties, they had Joe Louis, in the sixties and seventies there was Ali, Frazier and Foreman. Larry Holmes, Sugar Ray Leonard and Thomas Hearns dominated the eighties and Tyson, Holyfield and Lennox Lewis were the top heavyweights of their era. But now…boxing doesn't really have the rising stars it used to, that could grab your attention and draw people by the thousands, unlike our local hero Bruce Wayne, who's training a bunch of new boxers for the new generation. I'm sitting here, with me from Titans Boxing Club with Raven Roth, Victor Stone and the guy that's really caught our attention, Garfield Logan. Guys welcome to the show."

"Good to be here," smiled Victor.

"Hi," said Raven in deadpan.

"Now, how long have you been training as boxers?" began Towers.

"Well, for me and Raven," began Victor, "it's been a couple of years."

"I started back in November," offered Garfield. "I was…just looking for an outlet for rage and all that and boxing looked cool."

"That and having Bruce Wayne as your coach probably was a good incentive."

Garfield chuckled. "Actually before I started boxing, I didn't know who he was. It wasn't until after a while that I started reading about him, how he won the Olympics, had to deal with the backroom politics and got screwed a lot but I didn't know jack when I started."

"My dad told me-when I started-that he was a big fan of him but I thought he was probably a guy who was…maybe a bit punch drunk," admitted Raven. "But he's the smartest man I've ever met. The way he plans is like a general going into battle."

"OK," smiled Towers as he slammed the table, "first off let me just say that I've seen some of you guys fight before and you…you're _amazing_."

Victor laughed. "Well…I mean we're good but I don't know if we're amazing…"

"I have no problem calling myself amazing," smiled Garfield.

Towers laughed though part of it was exaggerated. "Yeah, you've really gotten a lot of attention in the media," admitted Towers. "Does that…bother you? Do you feel you _have _to be amazing. Because I-I read that article in the paper today about the steroid scandal and I couldn't believe it. Did you expect to be let back in?"

"In truth, I didn't believe it and for a while I didn't want to go. But Bruce…he really changed my mind."

"So are you going to go all the way now?" asked Towers.

"All of us are going to go all the way," Victor replied boldly. "There isn't anybody who can beat me because nobody in my weight class wants it that bad!"

"Raven, do you view yourself as a role model for younger girls?" asked Towers. He then pressed a button and a voice screamed "Girl power" out of nowhere.

Victor giggled.

Raven smiled. "Well, I have no problem if a girl looks to me as a role model but the truth is I'm not the only female boxer to admire. There's Laila Ali, Ann Wolfe…and the truth is it's not just boxers. Dr. Rice, Hillary Clinton, you don't have to be an athlete or a celebrity to be a role model."

"So, have any of you ever been seriously hurt in your time boxing?"

Garfield chuckled. "The, uh, the first time I sparred, I got a broken nose."

Towers quickly pressed a button and the voice of Chris Farley said, "That's gonna leave a mark!"

"It did," laughed Garfield. "It really did but the thing was…that made me want to fight even more."

"OK," smiled Towers. "Let's take some calls. Candace, you're on 97.5 with Victor, Raven and Garfield. Go ahead."

"Hey, Mike," said Candace, a young sounding female. "Um…why is it that boxers don't have sex before a fight?"

Victor and Garfield started laughing.

"I'm not going to answer that one," smiled Raven.

"OK, Candace," said Victor as he recovered. "The thing is, key ingredient to a boxer is his stamina and believe it or not, sex actually takes some of that stamina away from you. I mean-I'm not gonna say what I do but, uh, Lennox Lewis would go three months."

"Do you have girlfriends or boyfriends?" asked Towers.

"Me and Raven have been dating for a little while," admitted Garfield.

"I've got a special girl of mine on the side," Victor said coolly.

"OK, next on the line is…John. You're on 97.5."

"Yo, I got a question for Logan," said John. He sounded tough and spoke like he was upset. "Hey, man, how are you gonna beat the next guy you fight?"

Garfield shrugged. "Uh, well, I'm probably going to punch him a lot until I knock him out."

"You can't beat him," protested John. "I want to let you know, Logan, that I'm gonna beat yo' ass!"

Towers laughed. "Whoa. OK, John. What brought this on?"

Garfield looked at Victor then at Raven. Both of them had their eyes on him.

"Man, I'm tired of everyone saying how cool this guy is and how good he is. He ain't that great!"

"Hold on-hold on!" said Garfield in an annoyed tone. "I want to know who you are."

"Man, I'm John Spints. I've been boxing for six years and I was supposed to fight Farman!"

"Too bad for you," replied Garfield. "Can we go to the next caller?" he asked Towers.

"That's why I'm gonna fight you. Cause you screwed everything up, I got a bye too and we gonna fight and I'm gonna kill you!"

Garfield was getting annoyed by his antics. "Look, man, I have no idea why you're so pissed or why you're taking it out on me."

John really got mad at this point. "I'm mad cause you cockblocking! I know I'm the better featherweight and I know that you just a sob story cause you had cancer."

"Dude, I can't wait to whip you!" cried Garfield. "Our fight's the second Friday of July and that will be the worst night of your life."

"Logan, I'm gonna kill you like that cancer should have!"

"Oh, come on," said Victor into his microphone. "You're out of line now!"

"Put another caller on," said Raven to Towers.

Garfield leapt out of his chair and started screaming into his microphone like he was Hitler. "Everybody listening out there, get to your television sets, get to your radio because I have never wanted to whup a man so bad! This will be a first round knockout!"

Towers was laughing at the scene unfolding in front of him. "OK, now things are getting interesting. Uh, look, we'll take a break and be back before Garfield kills somebody. This is 97.5."

* * *

The rest of their segment went smoothly but after that, most questions revolved around Garfield and his prediction. Raven remained mostly quiet unless asked a question.

Victor was full of glee when they exited the radio station. "Man, that was so cool! Damn, I can't wait till college-just wait till I get to college! I'm gonna be the biggest force on the whole damn radio!"

"Are you OK?" Raven asked as she rubbed Garfield's arms.

"Why did I do that?" asked Garfield. "Why would I say that I'd knock him out in one?"

"You were in the zone, Gar," explained Victor. "Man, if someone came out and talked smack the way he did, I would of done the exact same thing."

"But one round," complained Garfield. "I've never done that before."

"Well you got a lot of time," assured Victor.

* * *

When Garfield stepped back into the gym, the spectators (most of whom had been waiting for Garfield to show up), turned towards him and burst into applause and started cheering and whooping.

Bruce was standing by the ring and waged his index finger at him, indicating he wanted to speak to him.

"What you did was very brave," he conceded. "However, it was also very dangerous. Planning for a one round KO is hard to achieve and I'm going to be training you extra hard now to make sure that you can bring that prediction as close to reality as possible."

* * *

Jake was still spellchecking through his article on the radio show incident when Robert leaned over his cubicle wall. "You know that we have editors to do that for us right?"

"I know, but it's a habit of mine. We don't have editors in school, only ourselves." He rubbed his eyes. "How do you stand staring at a computer screen for so long?"

Robert shrugged. "It isn't easy. Listen, I got us tickets for the third round of the State Championship in Gotham. They weren't easy to get though."

"Sold out?"

"Yep. That Logan kid sure knows how to hype something."

"I don't think he was intentionally trying to hype it," defended Jake. "I think he was purely mad. You ever see Roy Jones Jr. fight?"

Robert shrugged. "A few times."

"The first fight he lost was because of DQ and the guy he was beating talked like he had the upper hand and was trying to take away everything from Roy, that pisses Roy off, they meet again in a rematch, one round later, it's over, Roy beat the guy."

"So you think that Logan wants to beat the guy to prove a point?"

"Both of them do. This Spints kid wanted to fight Farman and beat him to prove that he's the best but since a guy that Farman beat (due to juicing) is back in and going to fight him, Spints feels that Logan is taking away from him."

"Cockblocking," deduced Robert.

Jake nodded. "This isn't going to be just a boxing match. It's going to be a war."

* * *

In the meantime, the second round of the State Championship had come and gone. Since Garfield had received a bye, he didn't have to participate but he was in the dressing room and in the stands, cheering them on as they all moved one step closer to glory.

Tim received a cut in the mouth and was spitting out blood the rest of the night.

Victor had received a low blow but was able to come off of it and win by doctor stoppage.

Dick got received some redemption by beating the fighter who had usurped his position as state champion from before Garfield had started boxing.

Kori easily danced around her opponent, making her tired and easy for Kori to move in and pummel. Like always, Kori hugged her opponent like a friend after their bout was over.

Raven floored her opponent for a ten count after delivering a chopping right that reminded Garfield of a guillotine.

There were a lot more people in the stands this time, the bout taking place in the auditorium of Jump City University and there seemed to be a camera crew from the local TV station along with commentators who were describing the blow by blow action. One for both radio and television.

On the ride home, Garfield knew that training from here on in was going to be getting more and more difficult. He had to beat Spints. Not just for himself, but also for everyone who had rooted for him before and those who had sent him money so he wouldn't be forced to move away.

* * *

The temperature in the gym was a sweltering one hundred and five degrees.

Victor slowly tapped away at a heavy bag, like a child playing patty-cake. He had done so much earlier that the heat had sapped his energy and strength. There were still another two minutes left in the round. Then he could rest for a few minutes, get some water and-

"Victor," observed Bruce. "You know I was watching some of the other middleweights out there the other night…they'd look _really _good with that belt around their waist."

_I know what you're doing_, thought Victor, _and I hate that it's working. _

Taunting Victor with the idea that tiring simply because of a little heat was enough for Bruce Wayne to get his fighter to give the heavy bag the pummelling it so righteously deserved. He held the bag to keep it from swaying until the round was over.

"Good job," congratulated Bruce as he pulled off his gloves. "Having trouble adjusting to the heat?"

"Kinda," Victor panted.

Bruce smiled. "In the 1980's, whenever I had a huge fight in or around Detroit, I would go to the Kronk gym to train and the temperature was usually around one hundred-twenty." He squeezed ice water into Victor's ready mouth.

"Hundred and twenty?" swallowed Victor. "How the hell is someone supposed to train in that?"

"It tests your endurance and stamina, plus a lot of pros fight under those huge lights. Believe me, it gets really hot in the ring at Caesar's Palace."

Garfield twisted his waist several times very rapidly as he finished his hundredth sit-up. Once he got off the decline bench he went to the pullup bar and started repetitions. The crowd today wasn't as large yesterday. It seemed that the heat had gotten to a lot of them and they decided to visit the local pools or anywhere else with an air conditioner inside of it. One he finished his set of ten, he dropped from the bar. A quick thirty second breather and he would be back at it. He pulled at his shirt and found that it was sticky, sweat making it cling to his chest and back. Not caring about showing off, he peeled off his shirt and lay it to rest on the ground while he did his next set. As he started doing his reps, people started taking pictures and a few people started clapping and whistling.

Tim, Dick and Victor noticed the attention Garfield and his torso were getting and quickly did the same, showing off their athletically tuned bodies.

"Hard to believe that's used to be some anorexic kid who was probably scared of his own shadow," Victor said quietly to Tim. "Now look at him, he…the dude's freaking ripped!"

"That and I get to call him my boyfriend," said Raven as she snuck up behind them and placed her hands on their backs, instantly regretting it because they too were sticky with sweat. "Gross!"

"So when are you ladies gonna take your shirts off?" asked Victor. "Because it _is _pretty hot in here."

Tim punched Victor on the arm.

"What?"

"Hey, that was cool back when I was single, but now…" Tim watched Kori skipping rope and moving her feet. "…Now we gotta grow up."

"At least one of you has," said Raven as she moved away.

"You're such a prude," muttered Victor.

"You could ask Sara if she wants to come work out with you and get topless," smiled Tim.

Victor turned away. "We broke up."

"What? When?"

"Last week. I didn't wanna make any noise about it because I thought I might get distracted with the match coming up." He looked a bit sad but then clapped his hands. "Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. She didn't cheat on me and I don't got any regrets."

* * *

Garfield was thankful that Tim was pulling his punches in this sparring match. Either that or the heat had sapped his strength. That could be it. After all, it had done the same to him and he knew that his punches weren't landing nearly as hard as they could.

_Tim told me not to hold back_, he reminded himself. _Don't get tired now! Rest during the break. Dig deep!_

Summoning the needed strength to keep Tim at bay, Garfield fired off his jab, but Tim got inside and began to clinch.

Tim breathed through his nostrils and then groaned. They were still shirtless and the heat inside the gym and their strenuous workout resulted in a non-pleasant odour to be produced from both of them. "Dude, you stink," panted Tim.

"Well when was the last time _you _took a bath?" asked Garfield. He broke free of Tim's clinch and both of them fired right hooks at each other, each of them landing a clean blow.

"Keep your hands up," called Bruce. "You're getting tired, you're letting them drop!"

Out of nowhere, Tim was firing jabs all over, some of which Garfield was able to dodge, some he took on the face and he then knew that Tim wasn't pulling his punches anymore.

_That bath comment must've pissed him off,_ thought Garfield. As soon as he found an opportunity, he slipped under one of the jabs, got behind Tim and once his opponent had turned around to face him, he drove a hard left hand into Tim's face, sending him against the ropes.

The bell rang and that was the end of the spar.

Bruce approached Garfield and helped him take off his gear.

"Hold still," he instructed him. He started feeling Garfield's muscles. They certainly were strong but…

"Everything OK?" asked Garfield.

Bruce stopped. "Your muscles are too stiff," he explained. "You've done a good job at developing and preparing them for the upcoming fight against Spints, but they're too stiff."

"Well…what do you want me to do?" asked Garfield.

Bruce and Garfield moved towards a storage closet and pulled out a rectangular table that was padded and had a face hole so that the user of the table could be comfortable.

"Get on," instructed Bruce.

Facing down, Garfield felt Bruce's hands go over his back and begin to massage the muscles, telling them to relax.

"For a few months, I fought professionally in Asia and parts of the Middle East for a promoter whom I should have avoided," said Bruce.

"Hmm?" said Garfield as he began to turn around.

"Stay still, just listen. Anyway, his name was Raas al Ghul and he promoted fights all over the east, almost like a Bob Arum of that area. I was doing an exhibition in Egypt and he was really impressed. Said that I studied my opponent like a detective studies a crime scene and that lead to him calling me Detective."

"Sounds like a weirdo," said Garfield as he felt his body becoming less tense.

"He was a bit. The way he really got me to sign with him was through his daughter. I was only nineteen, had only a few fights under me and I was attracted to her."

"What happened?"

"Raas started putting me in at least three fights a month. Boxers from days way before your or my time, fighters like Ray Robinson, Jake LaMotta, Willie Pep, those fighters could do that and it seems he thought I could too."

"How did you do?"

"I won every fight. Fourteen fights in a four month period. And while it helped build my reputation, I later found out that I was being used be Talia and her father."

"Hmm? What do you mean?"  
"They were only using me to try and draw other fighters and when it wasn't working, they decided to push me even harder. When I found out they had no intention of giving me a title shot, I left. Then I came back here, Alfred trained me and…well we know the rest."

"Did you ever get a title shot?" asked Garfield. "I know that you were a contender for a long time but you must have had your shot at some point, right?"

Bruce stopped working his hands and paused. "Larry Holmes won a decision over me in 1984," replied Bruce as he resumed his massaging. "Of course I worked at it again but by the time I would have had a shot, Mike Tyson had burst on the scene and…it never happened."

"Were you afraid of Tyson?" asked Garfield.

Bruce scoffed as he massaged the back of Garfield's legs. "Hardly. It was Don King who was scared of me. He did every trick in the book to make sure Tyson didn't fight me. By that time I had two losses on my record but my fan base was building and people loved to watch me fight. My sparring sessions would always be watched and that's when the nicknames developed. Around the late 80's, they started calling me Batman and the Dark Knight and then those t-shirts started selling like crazy."

"Why did they call you that?" asked Garfield with a smile Bruce couldn't see.

"Batman? Well that started after I used a move I like to call 'the flying bat'. That's where I'm far away enough from the opponent that I can run at them, leap up and come down, striking them on the head and if didn't knock them out, the next punch usually did. That and bats are interesting creatures; they're great survivors."

"So…who did you first lose to?"

Bruce began working Garfield's arms. "Ernie Shavers. That man could _hit_. They thought he was a bit washed up but it was a hell of a fight."

"Then Holmes…so there were three other loses. Who were they to?"  
"The last two were people I had no business losing to and the public knew that, otherwise they wouldn't have chanted about bovine manure after the decision was announced."

"Bovine manu-oh, I get it," laughed Garfield.

"The third guy I lost to was in late 1990. Evander Holyfield was the undisputed heavyweight champion and he was looking for a challenger and I was ranked number two and I faced off against number one. That was a brutal ten rounds which could have gone either way." He patted Garfield on the back. "You're all done. Tell Victor to come over and I'll give him one."

"So who was number one?" asked Garfield as he climbed off the table.

Bruce turned towards him and smiled. "George Foreman."

* * *

Sitting at his computer, Garfield decided that he would write an email that he knew was well overdue. He opened his hotmail account and began typing.

_Dear Terra,_

_Sorry I haven't written you in a while. Lot of interesting things have been happening around here in Jump City. First off, bad news; I got KO'd in the first round of this tournament I entered. I had been such a favourite that a lot of people were surprised that it happened. Truth is, something like that is pretty crushing to a guy who feels that he can go all the way. _

_Good news; the guy who beat me was on steroids or some other 'performance enhancing substance' and so I'm back in! I've been training my butt off, though according to you, I probably didn't have a butt to begin with. _

_If I continue to win in the tournament, I'll be heading to the finals which are being held in Metropolis so hopefully, if fate will allow it, we can get together like old times. There are some people I know you'd love to meet, including my girlfriend, Raven. Try not to fight her for stealing me away when you meet her, lol._

_It's really hot here so me and a few of the guys are going to the pool tomorrow for a little while. Hopefully you're staying cool. Knowing you, you're psyched about going to Metropolis University after being home schooled for all those years. If I win, and believe me, this time I have to, I hope I can see you. It's been way too long. Plus, there's someone else I have to try and see while I'm up there._

* * *

His feet were firmly planted at the edge. The sounds of people going about their business below could be heard. Laughter, screams of joy.

"Gotta jump," Garfield whispered as he tucked his toes just out so that they were touching the open air. "God…why am I doing this?"

"Jump already!" called Tim as he waited patiently at the top of the ladder to the high diving board at the local indoor pool.

Garfield turned around. "Let me take my time," he insisted. "I have a fear of heights."

Tim rolled his eyes. "So…you have a fear of heights and you decide that the smart thing to do would be go off the diving board. Weren't you supposed to have an _above _average IQ?"

"I'm going," said Garfield. He bounced once then leapt off the board, shooting his body out on an angle before bringing his knees up towards his chest and holding them in place with his arms. In the shape of a cannonball he impacted with the water, creating a large splash. He surfaced quickly and swam to the side where Victor was at, watching the girls while trying not to draw attention to himself.

Tim did a run and jump, trying to dive straight into the water but just as he stepped off, his footing was off and his body went out horizontal.

Victor and Garfield cringed as he sharply hit the water with a loud 'FLOP'.

"Damn," remarked Victor.

Tim arched his body out of the water and gave a light groan.

"Looks like you're going to have to settle for the silver," smiled Garfield.

With a swing of his arm, Tim brought a small wave over Garfield.

"I'm wondering…what happens after this?" questioned Victor.

"The pool?" asked Tim. "Well…we'll probably leave, spend the rest of the day smelling like chlorine and-"

"I mean the Championship," stated Victor as he let his body float to the top while he held his hands behind him, hanging onto the edge. "Boxing wise and…well what happens to us. I mean, I know I _said _I was hoping to go to JCU but-"

"I'm moving away," said Garfield.

"What was that?" asked Tim.

"I'm going to school up north…about four hours away at Jonesville."

"Wait-wait-wait a minute," said Victor. "_You're _to Jonesville. B, why the hell didn't you say so! They got a better broadcast journalism program there and I'm heading up too. Dude, we should totally look for apartments together. I'd rather live with you than try to get used to some strange guy's way of life."

"Um…I didn't want to say this but I'm going to now…you guys are stalking me," said Tim.

Victor frowned. "What you mean?"

"I mean I'm going to Jonestown and I didn't want to tell you guys until after the Championship. I've…I really want to experience living in residence and on my own so Bruce and I…wow, we're going to the same school."

"This is…a bit weird," admitted Garfield. "Like, what if this is fate? What if we're really some characters on an internet story website and our lives are controlled by some writer who lives in the shadows."

Victor looked at Tim.

"May I?"

Tim nodded. "If you don't, I will."

Victor got up, put both his hands on Garfield's wet scalp and pushed his friend underwater for three seconds, holding him there.

Surfacing with water in his mouth, nostrils and ears, Garfield snarled at Victor, "What the hell was that for?"

"You obviously needed to soak your head, Gar. Talking about some shadow guy writing about us and that controls our lives? Damn! Next you'll be saying we should have our own series on Cartoon Network."

* * *

At 8AM, on July 8, the fighters of _Titans Boxing Club_ climbed into a van Bruce had rented with their baggage (enough for two days) and drove on the highway towards where the next round of the State Championships would take place: Gotham City.

Tim was apprehensive about going there. While he knew that glory would never come to him if he didn't go, that city was a bit too painful for him to remember. While his ordeal with the Jokers was over, nightmares still surfaced. It also took a toll on his teeth too-he would grind them at night, forcing him to wear his mouthpiece while he slept. That and he knew that his father was still in Gotham. He had to have been. He never wanted to see him again and yet…part of him wanted a sense of closure. He wanted that biological tie that he father denied him.

Garfield kissed his mother on the cheek as she lay in her bed just before he left. The fight was going to be broadcast on TV, radio and newspapers would be covering the event as well. Most of the fight journalists, which included Robert Stone and Jake Kinsey-whom were driving up later in the morning, since the fights were in the evening-were particularly looking forward to the fight between Garfield Logan and John Spints.

* * *

When they arrived at the Gotham Heights Hotel, they were divided into their rooms. Bruce and Alfred would take one, Kori and Raven would have their own and the four remaining gentlemen took the third one, which was designated 'the party room'.

"Win or lose," Bruce said on the way up the elevator, "tonight we will celebrate."

Tim took a nap on the bed as soon as he put his bag in the corner. The bed faced the window which gave a wonderful view of Gotham's skyline.

"Hey, a mini-bar," observed Dick.

"You empty that and you'll be walking back," Bruce warned as he and Alfred made their way towards their room.

"I was just going to sample," stated Dick as he stuck his head out the door.

"What's that sound?" asked Garfield as he sat on the mattress, pulling off his shoes. "Like something's scratching or grinding against-"

Dick moved toward Tim and caringly shook him. "Tim," he asked quietly, "you have to stop grinding your teeth."

Tim groaned. "OK," he said drowsily.

"Where's your mouthpiece?"

"In…in the side pocket."

Dick grabbed the duffel bag and pulled out a small round-rectangular holder. Inside was a piece of plastic which had been customized to fit Tim's teeth. Using his fingers, Dick opened his brother's mouth and stuck the mouthpiece inside.

Tim's breathing became a bit slurry for a second but then resumed normalcy.

"He OK?" asked Victor. "How come he didn't sleep in the van?"

"Tim's always had problems sleeping," explained Dick. "That and being back in Gotham isn't always great for someone who had to live the way he did. I mean, I doubt he told you all that he's told me but let's just say I don't blame the guy for not wanting to be here."

He climbed onto the opposite side of the bed and turned on the TV.

Victor and Garfield got onto the other bed and lay back, watching the screen constantly change from one channel to the next.

"So…this is it," remarked Dick. "One more step and off to the finals."

"What is it like?" asked Victor. "I mean…we saw you win this before but…what's it like to have people cheering you and knowing you're the best in the state?"

Dick stopped flipping through channels. He paused to think of his response because he knew that he couldn't answer by just saying 'it's great' or anything simple like that. His answer had to have meaning and profoundness.

"You'll stop," he began, "and when you hear the referee reach ten, wave his arms or hear the announcer call your name…just for an instant, time stands still. Everyone else will have a different point of view of the moment but you will remember everything that happens in that moment _exactly_. You'll remember the sounds, the faces, even the smells of the place. In that one moment…you gain immortality. And just as soon as you realize what you've gotten…it's gone and everything before seems like a dream and you question it until your coach and everyone around you is congratulating you…and the feeling slowly comes back."

* * *

At four thirty, after a quick lunch, the fighters were loaded back into the van with their boxing gear and drove over to the local hockey arena where the Gotham Knights played.

The girls were in one locker room where they weighed in with Bruce (tradition allowed that even male trainers were allowed in the women's locker room for the weigh-in), while Alfred stayed with the boys.

Garfield stood on the scale in his boxer briefs and felt the metal underneath his bare toes. He hadn't seen Spints in the locker room but he knew he had to be around. There was no way that he would chicken out after all of the trash talking he had done.

"Garfield Logan…one hundred twenty four pounds, even," remarked the doctor as he scribbled it down in Garfield's book.

He went back over towards his bag and pulled out a book. He had to read to keep his mind off the anticipation of the bout. Just as he was about to turn the page, he heard his mother's cell-phone going off in his bag. He quickly whipped it out and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Garfield," greeted Raven. "I noticed you brought your mom's cell-phone."

"Yeah…I guess once the weigh in is over they'll let you ladies come in here and vice-versa."

"How come we can't come in now?"

"Oh, some guys are still in their underwear and…yeah, one guy had to pull off his briefs to make weight. So…it'd be better if you stayed where you are for the time being. Besides, I don't want you to start considering that you made the wrong choice when you decided to date me."

"Well I've never seen your butt so I can't compare," replied Raven.

"True," said Garfield. "Wait-remember at the hospital, when you guys came to visit before my operation?"

"Oh…well, OK, I think I saw part of a cheek but not the whole thing."

"Part of a cheek? The cheek is part of the butt so you technically saw part of a part."

"You never offered to show me the real thing…except when we visited you after your surgery."

"What?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Uh…no. I mean…I remember that you guys were there but I don't really…_remember_."

"You asked me if I wanted to see you naked," she told him flat out with a hint in her voice that she found the situation as funny now as she did back then.

"Oh…" said Garfield as he covered his eyes. "You can't see this right now but right now I'm probably blushing."

"If your mom wasn't around I would have said yes," Raven told him bluntly. "Look, I know that a couple hours before we go beat the hell out of people isn't the best time to say this but…I've been happier with you than I ever was with Gavin. I look at that time and I know that I was so stupid. I wasn't…I didn't really get a lot of attention from guys and when Gavin and I met…it was just nice but then he wan-"

"Raven, I know where you're going with this," insisted Garfield. "If you're apologizing for not going out with me sooner, that's fine, I don't really care. I mean, you can make your own choices and ultimately you made the right one so-"

"Gar…" she whispered, "I don't want you to get hurt out there. That guy's not just talking. He's wants to hurt you."

"Rae…I love you," whispered Garfield. "I'm gonna beat Spints for you…for both of us."

* * *

Garfield was going to be the fifth match of the evening. He watched the first two fights on TV and used the rest of the time to get warmed up. He skipped rope for five minutes, worked pads with Bruce and shadowboxed with his gloves on.

"Hold on a minute," said Bruce as he pulled up a large suitcase trolley. He put it up on one of the benches and opened it. Inside, wrapped in plastic were boxing robes for each of the fighters.

"Whoa," exclaimed Dick as he marvelled at the black robe with the blue silhouette of a bird of prey on it. "Bruce, kick ass!"

Tim's was red and black and had a stylistic 'R' on the back.

Raven's was blue and featured a bird of the same name on the back with red, ominous eyes.

Kori's was white with a lone orange star on the back.

Victor's was a sky blue colour embroidered with the phrase 'BOO-YAH' on the back in black.

Garfield was the last to put his on. It was green with black lining. On the back of it was one word, embroidered in black like Victor's: DELIVERANCE.

"Sugar Ray Leonard wore the same thing on his robe, the night he fought Thomas Hearns," explained Bruce. "He was out to prove that he was just more than a media darling and a pretty face."

The word melded with Garfield's emotions. That was the simple word he needed to describe what needed to happen.

Not just victory.

Not just a knockout.

Not just a first round knockout.

He sought deliverance from anyone who doubted him as a fighter.

And only he could achieve deliverance.

"Logan, Garfield," one of the promoters called. "You're up!"

* * *

The walk to the ring was bigger than anything Garfield had experienced in his life. Cameras snapped photos, video cameras recorded every detail and TV cameras broadcasted it all across to those who were able to receive it on their television.

In the press box, Robert Stone sat with Jake Kinsey. There was no way that any of the coverage would be able to make it to the presses so they simply had to wait until the day after tomorrow to see their coverage of this in print…should it make it there of course.

"Spints'll kill him," remarked a reporter behind Jake, "first round."

Jake turned around. "You really think so?"

"Of course," snorted the reporter. "I'd bet a hundred dollars on that."

Jake paused and looked at the fighter approaching the ring. "I'll take that bet."

"Huh?"

"I bet that Garfield Logan will not only win, but he'll win before the round is over."

"Hey," nudged Robert, "we're supposed to remain neutral."

"I'll remember that when you're cheering your son on," said Jake. He extended his hand to the other reporter. "Come on, man, shake on it."

"Hundred bucks?"

"Hundred bucks."

They shook.

"If Logan loses," Jake whispered to Robert, "can I borrow a hundred dollars?"

* * *

Spints trotted into the ring with rap music playing over the speakers. Had Garfield known that that option was available he would have come out to something by Clapton or Eye of the Tiger.

"Are you nervous?" asked Bruce.

Garfield looked over at Spints. He seemed to be older than himself, his dark skin made him handsome yet he had that smugness about him that Garfield hated.

"Well…I know he's not dumb enough to try and fake out the urine test, and I think his mouth wrote a check his ass can't cash," replied Garfield. He looked at his coach and said, "Deliverance."

* * *

Sally Logan sat watching her son as he bobbed around on his feet and then undid his robe.

"Garfield Logan has sort of been a big star here in the State Championship, _despite _losing in the first round," stated the announcer. "However, due to his opponents use of an illegal substance, Logan is back in the tournament. He declared on a Jump City radio show that he would knock out John Spints in the first round. Spints showed incredible courage in the first stage of the tournament, using incredible defence skills and a lethal jab that eventually wore down his opponent in the third round. Now they're being called towards the center of the ring where referee Charlie Pep will give the instructions."

* * *

Pep looked like a hologram of Mahatma Ghandi but without the accent. The walking stick would have gone well with his vanilla white suit.

"Boys, I want a good clean fight. You're gonna fight for three rounds-"

"Or less," Garfield said over him to Spints.

"-avoid using any kinds of fouls. Break when I tell you to. Are there any questions?"

"I got a question," volunteered Spints. He looked at Garfield and asked, "You know how to get back in this tourney after I beat you? You know how to get back in?"

"Let's not ask questions like that and go to work," Pep said sternly.

Garfield returned to his corner.

Alfred fed his mouthpiece into his mouth and patted him on the back.

"If you're going do what you say you are," he advised quickly, "just dash out there as soon as the bell goes; don't give him a second to move, get him against and give it to him!"

The bell and chimed and without a look of hesitation or thought upon his face, Beast Boy bounded towards Spints, who was just turning around from his corner and slammed a right hook into him.

* * *

"Spints is caught off guard!" cried the announcer as the Teen Titans cheered in the dressing room. "He's wobbling from one corner to the next! And Logan is going to work on him and now Spints is firing back from against the ropes."

* * *

Inside the ring, the two fighters were absorbing as much punishment as they were traded bombs. Beast Boy could already start to feel his cheek ache through the head gear while his skull vibrated left and right.

_He regained pretty quickly,_ he thought to himself. _Retreat for a bit and formulate the next attack. _

Leaping back like a cougar, Beast Boy put a good distance from himself and Spints. He observed his opponent. Spints held his arms high with his left arm at the top of his forehead and power hand underneath his right eye almost.

_He's protecting his head…he knows I'm going for the knockout…have to trick him somehow. His chest…he's leaving that and his stomach wide open!_

Beast Boy began shooting out jabs towards Spints, but none of them were landing. Spints however knew that Beast Boy saw this and would try to move in closer and began moving his hands down to smack away the jabs. Just as he wondered why Beast Boy was using only one punch to try and weaken him, he suddenly knew he made the fatal error.

Beast Boy's left had dug back and shot out like the tongue of a lizard, snatching a fly out of thin air and slammed into Spints chin. The contact was loud and the crowd erupted when they saw this impact.

Spints tried to move back but soon found that his body was moving like a wet noodle. He closed his eyes as Beast Boy threw another left into his face, causing him to fall down.

The arena was on it's feet, screaming and cheering. While Spints could hear the count of the referee, he knew that he had no chance of getting up. And he didn't want to. He knew he had been beaten.

* * *

"Logan has won the fight!" shouted the announcer as Sally Logan jumped up from the couch, nearly spilling her bucket of popcorn. "Logan has proved his doubters wrong and proven his place in this tournament. And he has only one more fight until he can be called State Featherweight Champion!"

Bruce leapt over the top rope and picked up his fighter by the waist, swinging him around.

"Deliverance," shouted Garfield to nobody. Bruce set him down and he ran to the nearest corner, jumping onto the highest rope and raising his arms. After a few seconds of posing he jumped back down and headed over to Spints corner.

The dark man was sitting on his stool, swelling under his left eye. Garfield held out a glove for him to tap. Spints got up and hugged Garfield.

"You the champ," he said earnestly. "Nobody ever knock me out like that before. I'm sorry for all the crap I said. You _earned _your spot here. You have to win now, for both of us."

"I will," Garfield said gently. He walked back to his corner and allowed Bruce to pull off his gloves and put his robe on for him.

"How do you feel?" he asked.  
"OK," replied Garfield. "I…I got hit with a lot of bombs in there but so did he."

"Only one more," stated Bruce. "Think you can survive the last match?"  
Garfield smiled. "You bet. But let's not think about that right now. Like you said, tonight we celebrate!"

The bell rang three times.  
"Ladies and gentlemen," boasted the ring announcer, "at one minute, two seconds of the first round, the winner by way of knockout…GARFIELD…BEAST BOY…LOOOOOGAAAANNN!"

To Be Continued...

Wow...can't believe I did that. OK, chances are that there will only be one more chapter, maybe an epilogue. Not sure, but If I can, I want to have this finished before the end of the year. I started in 2004 and I don't want to still be working on it in 2010 or something like that...though some of you might, I don't know. Anyway, please review and let me know how you felt about this chapter


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